New Year, New Vision

Ah the blog, it has slipped. Mostly fallen off the radar. Life, and all of that, has overtaken, and I have had trouble keeping up, trouble knowing what to say. But, it is a new year, and with that come new challenges, responsibilities, and new hopes.

This year, I have been blessed to be invited to be a part of something very special. I have the privilege to be an ambassador for Gadanke journals. If you've never heard about this incredible undertaking, please check them out: www.gandanke.com. (Note: I'm currently writing this on my iPad, so adding links is not so easy, and I'm not sure if my photos will work, or if I'll eventually have to add them via a computer later.)

Anyhow, as a Gadanke ambassador, my first project is to share a really exciting project designed to reach out to and encourage children to celebrate their stories. The Time Capsule For Kids journal allows kids to record the things that they think about, love, fear, wonder, hope, and so much more. I have had the chance to look over the new book, and I so wish I had had something like this when I was a kid. Of course, as a prolific writer from early childhood, I have an assortment of my thoughts and ideas captured, but their just fragments, and they don't tell the whole story in the voice of the me I used to be.

In this world where kids spend more time staring at screens than climbing trees, where their vocabulary has been reduced from full words and ideas to acronyms and text speech, wouldn't it be great to pull them back to reality, even in some small way, to celebrate the simple things that bring them joy, and to discover the beauty of what they can create with their own hands? The Time Capsule For Kids can help to provide them with that opportunity, and hopefully inspire them to continue to document their lives in the future.

So, what would you put in a time capsule from your childhood? What bits of pieces from your childhood do you wish you could remember with the poignancy they once carried? What do you cherish now that you would like to recall on difficult days in the years to come? This doesn't have to be a journal for children only, it can help anyone who wants to hold on to the precious bits and pieces of life that can so easily slip from our grasp.

(Unfortunately, I have still been unable to convince my iPad and blogger to work together, so you'll have to check out my photos on Instagram :)

Here is a little look into what I might have put into a time capsule as a kid. And think about where you might have gone to write as a child, or where you might want to escape to as an adult...

There are so many possibilities.

Another important part of the Gadanke mission is helping women and children in crisis. They have developed a program where these journals can be purchased at 50% of the retail cost and they will be donated to children who have suffered from domestic violence. Katie Clemons, the creative visionary and journal crafter behind Gadanke, is passionate about helping people celebrate their stories, and live a more intentional life. She is using #shareastory to help promote the way the Time Capsule Journal For Kids can have an impact.

So, in this New Year, I hope I, too, will be able to reach out and help others come to a place where they can celebrate the lives they are living, and discover that we all are important.

Retreat

What a month. After starting to get my feet back under myself in March, April pretty much knocked the wind back out of me. There were highs (a nice visit with my parents), lows (taxes and recent bad news for a friend), and everything in between. The days have spun, whirled, blurred themselves together in a mix of heavenly sunny weather, and the typical cold damp gray of an Oregon spring. I find myself now, at the end of this month, wondering again how childhood time ever seemed to move at a snails pace, because I swear it was just a few days ago that I was taking down the store Christmas tree, and here we are all stocked for Mother's Day and Summer.
This afternoon I am heading off to a retreat with the ladies from the church I currently attend. This will be my first night away from home since Christmas, and my first night away from our silly little dog ever. I find myself a bit of a worried mess about him, even as I'm super excited for this opportunity to get out and do something different. I am under no illusions that having a pet is the same as having a child, but I can't deny the mothering instinct that this separation has given birth to within me. Will he remember to eat and drink while I am away? Will he whine at night when he realizes that I am not coming home. Will he curl up in my spot on the bed beside my husband, or pitifully wait on the couch for my return? I'm sure he'll be just fine, and that I'll be rewarded with lots of dog claw scratches and warm tongued licks when I do get back, but I can't help but feel a little guilty for leaving him behind...
Well, I had no idea all of that would come out. I think one of the most fascinating things about writing is when I just let go and allow whatever is really inside me to reveal itself. All this to say, I'm really looking forward to my little night away, and hoping that I will come back refreshed and ready to better be the person I'm meant to be. Okay, that last line was sorta lame, but you know what I mean ;)

Spontaneity and Change are NOT the Same

I've always been a fan of mixing things up.  I like to try new things (well except new food, which I have only recently been brave enough to branch out in) to bring more variety to life.  By very nature, I love being transient, moving from place to place and country to country.  It would seem to follow that I would also embrace change gladly, but I don't.

The truth is, that while I get the itch to change scenery every few years, I'm mostly a creature of habit.  I like my morning routines and knowing what I need to do to make things run smoothly at work. Every time I establish myself in a new venue, I quickly come up with a pattern to organize my days, and I generally stick with it, varying things only after considerable contemplation.

The thing that throws me off the most, however, is when the people I work with change.  New teachers always challenged me until I knew what they were looking for and how to achieve the best results.  New students at Winfield alway took a while to understand, especially when I had not anticipated a change.  When babies or staff at Mother's Choice would move on, I was always left with a tumult of emotions, which was ultimately the reason I moved on as well.

These days I have to deal with postal customers closing their boxes, or office staff moving on to new jobs and being replaced by new mail droppers.  It always messes me up, and leaves me feeling like I've lost something, despite the fact that I typically only see them for a few minutes every week.

When I have been prepared for a change, I can generally manage to accept it with a certain level of understanding, but when a major switch up takes place without previous knowledge it is far more difficult to manage.  About a week ago the woman who has been the manager at our local Plaid Pantry since we arrived in the US a little over four years ago, has been replaced.  I don't know the circumstances, but I have been hugely distressed by this disruption to my regular life. She was there the first morning I walked my husband down to see the store where I used to buy candy as a child visiting my grandparents.  She was there every weekday morning for whatever little thing I needed to pick up, and frequently at other times when new people needed to be trained, or needed an unexpected break.  She was always friendly, and practiced the sort of customer service I seek to offer as well.  In short, she cared.  She remembered purchases, as well as the little bits of life that we shared back and forth.  

We are out of town a lot, and it has been difficult to get to know people in the neighborhood, let alone in the town in general.  I always appreciated the fact that, if I needed to see a smiling face I could walk down to the Plaid and share a moment of my day with Rachel.  I even brought her cookies at Christmas time, which in my busy holiday season really says something.

I haven't been brave enough to push and ask why she no longer works there.  I am hoping she has a new, better job, closer to where she lives.  I know that change is a part of life, and that the cranky grandma who now manages the place is not responsible for what feels like an injustice, but, suffice it to say, change is really not always my thing.

Musical Time Capsule

This week I filled my cars CD player with an assortment of mixes and discs from my Hong Kong era.  One, in particular, struck me profoundly as I listened through it.  All the songs were ones I still think are amazing, but the themes were definitely lacking in lightness.  As my mother has often pointed out, a least majority of them were downright depressing.  They are songs I have turned to on dark days, in times of stress, frustration, heartbreak, and general gloom.  

As I listened to them this week, with the sun streaming through the windows and my life in a very different location, I wondered what I would say to myself on the days when I was putting this assortment together.  I actually sent a message to the friend I made the mix for and asked if I was really such a drag to be around as my collection seemed to portray.  Was I so afraid, so alone, so desperately in need of escaping from myself, as these songs implied.

It fascinates me to see how much the music I listen to can sum up an era.  I haven't bought any new music in several years, not because I don't love it anymore, but because it is not in my budget, and so easily accessible online that it hasn't made sense to invest.  If I made a mix today, it would definitely be lacking in anything up to date, but I'd like to hope I would chose a few more hopeful songs with people, rather than those ones I turn to when I'm in need of serious music therapy :)

Well, I never...

Thought it would take me this long to write another blog post. Can we say, pathetic? Over the past (gasp) almost three years, my life has been so shop absorbed that so many bits of me have fallen to the wayside. Journaling has nearly gone out the window, blogging has taken a back bus seat, and keeping in contact with friends and family has become a slipshod wishy-washy affair.

A few weeks ago, during my new year cleansing/purging/revisitation, I went through my little Muji bits and pieces journal and found a list of blog theme ideas that I wrote out last August, then proceeded never to use. Some of them were actually pretty good and inspiring. But here it is, end of February, and I have not even written a blah post in months, let alone anything of interest. I have, however, taken to putting more things on paper. There have been birthday cards, thank you notes, and even a few just because I need to reconnect with the people I love letters over the past couple of months. There have also been a considerable number of additions to my Gadanke journal. (I would add a link, but I'm writing this on my iPad and live in constant fear that anything I try even slightly out of the ordinary will vanish and destroy everything I've finally managed to write.)

All this to say, it's the super slow post holiday season at the shop, and in order not to bemoan the steady trudge of nothingness going on around me, I'm trying to get back to me here too. Hopefully, more to come, but I'm not holding my breath...

A Cabin In The Woods

A few weeks back we were invited by a friend to visit her families park in the back woods of Washington. She gave me a few details, but we weren't really sure what to expect. Lush forests, a river, and a cabin were on the list. It sounded quaint and like something worth seeing, so on a Sunday afternoon we headed over to her home and she drove us to the countryside.

The property has been in her family for several generations. They use it as a retreat from the hustle and bustle of Portland life. It has been the site of childhood adventures and family picnics, as well as a place where local residents have occasionally come and made a mess. Most of the fishermen who have visited have respected the owners wishes to care for the land, but at one point a rogue group used explosives in a fishing frenzy and destroyed a natural waterfall. To make matters worse, there was a robbery at the cabin leading them to hire a man to stay there and maintain the place.

Enter Billy. Before our arrival my friend had told me that the man who stays there has a curious collection of hunting trophies inside, so I had some small idea of what to expect, but when we arrived and he led us inside the small cabin my response was nothing short of awe. As a kid, I well remember my grandparents living room being encircled by buck horns, but this was something different all together.

It seems that Billy is actually a celebrity in the hunting world. He has circled the globe and hunted pretty much everything you can hunt, and brought it back. Add to it the fact that he is also a taxidermist, having mounted his first piece at the age of ten (which he still has), and you are beginning to understand what we're talking about here.

Every inch of wall space was covered. HIs collection even included a trophy from the Czech Republic where he was knighted into a local hunting circle. He showed us the certificate they presented him with, and for the first time he was able to have it translated.

These images are all from the main room of the house, but his bedroom was encircled with the heads of sheep and goats from places like Egypt, Azerbaijan, and China. He was full of stories, which I won't go into now, but it was fascinating and overwhelming all at the same time. Even as we spoke, he told us he was cooking up some bear in the crock pot. Not something you hear every day.

It was a rainy day, so we weren't able to soak up the sun, or go swimming like we had originally thought when we planned this trip, but after spending half an hour or so in the cabin, we headed out to enjoy the beautiful nature along the Washougal River.

The rocks were really fascinating. There were these large holes that had us guessing at their cause and purpose. Were they created by rocks of old under pressure? Carved out by indigenous people for milling? We even considered one section with a series of circles close together as an early clothes washing station. Whatever their early uses, they now serve nicely as gardens for spiders who weave their webs over the tops and await the larvae to sprout wings and fly.

We wandered the trails and saw interesting flora, as well as evidence of the past being slowly integrated back into nature.

And on a final note, the curtains our friend hung in the bathroom roughly forty years ago. Enjoy :)

Kiff Tales. Or Is It Kiff's Tail?

Well, after some patient jiggling and cajoling, I got the light to come on, and the computer to run, so I can share Kiff's big trip to the beach. Our little Kiffmeister had a rough start in life, and came to us a battered timid little guy. It has been a long process to get him to warm up and share his joy with us, but he has been making serious progress, so we decided to bring to him to the beach.

He still isn't particularly good at coming when called, so I was nervous about letting him run free. But after some persuasion, I let him loose and this was how he responded.

Personally, that looks like pure joy to me. He pranced across the sand, exulting in his freedom, but also in security. When he first came home with us, anytime we took him outside he would look for a place to hide. Usually this meant curling up in the dirt behind the bushes around the periphery of the yard. What a difference seven months can make.

He has not changed his opinions about water, however. We tried to get him to come and at least experience the edge of the ocean, but as he followed me I did the thing my grandparents always warned me not to do. I turned my back on the ocean. I wanted to capture his first salty sea steps, but ignoring what was heading in our direction, I didn't realize there was a large sneaky wave coming, and it nearly toppled Kiff completely. Needless to say, from that point on he kept as far away from the pesky water as possible.

The Oregon Coast can be quite unpredictable, but this day, which had been gray and cloudy at home when we headed out, turned out to be spectacular. Nearly seventy degrees, almost no wind, and blue skies encouraged us to try out the frigid waters, despite Kiff's rejection. We let him have his space to romp across the sand. It was encouraging to see that, even if he was up the beach as close to the cliff as possible, he kept level with us, always checking to see that we were together.

Everything was fine and dandy, until we noticed the buzzards starting to circle. While they aren't likely to scoop up an active ten pound dog, the way they kept coming back and swooping in for a closer look - first one, then two, then three ugly scavengers - convinced us that it was time to turn back, and keep a close eye on the pup. We even put him on the leash a few times when they got particularly close.

So we bid adieu to the lovely beach and headed back home, thankful for Kiff's experience with freedom, and encouraged by his acceptance of our protection.