Favorites from 2014

I hope to tell you the story of these roses next week.  They marked a happy occasion for me this past year and are one of 2014's photos and stories that didn't make the blog.  Next week, I hope.  ♥

The year ends with the wing chair re-do still in-progress.  I'm still looking for fabric for the seat cover and back. 

I mentioned in February that my older brother's "fortieth birthday fudge" arrived broken into pieces and that I was disappointed but was not going to beat myself up about it, but alas, I couldn't resist making a new batch for him later that month.  I left it at my parents' house for him during a visit home along with another gift and a hand-painted deer ornament.  Forty is a big deal; it was worth a second batch of Grandma's fudge.  ♥

My new camera brought immeasurable joy to my days this year.  The Neil Gaiman quote I opened a January post with--"I hope that in the year to come, you make mistakes.  Because if you are making mistakes, you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world"--has come to mind so many times this year, the quote itself has felt like a gift.  I remember my grandfather telling me that, "People who don't make mistakes don't make anything" at a time when I needed to hear exactly that, and to hear this echo of his words in the Gaiman quote has been a blessing to me.  That I now have a real camera to take with me on my walks is just wonderfully fun for me.  The Mourning Dove below was perched on a fence-post as I returned from a walk this summer--

--and I never could have taken a picture with detail like that with the camera on my old flip-phone.  You understand my joy.  :)

I mentioned at the end of 2013 that one of my goals for 2014 was to be more organized and thoughtful with my gift-wrapping like my dear aunt Laurie always is.  I put more thought into my gift-wrapping, but I didn't end the year any more organized with it.  Mom had predicted that it would be harder for us to be as  organized as Aunt Laurie is with these types of things since Aunt Laurie's entire attic serves as her space for craft supplies and gift wrap supplies and gifts-yet-to-be-given.  In a one-bedroom apartment, I don't have the same set-up, and after multiple organizational attempts this year, I've come to accept that I'll just have to do the best I can with what I have when it comes to this.  Maybe someday, I too will have a space I can devote to all things gift-giving-related.  Aunt Laurie didn't have her attic until she was in her forties, after all, so I still have time.  Dare to dream.  ;) 

Our Easter table this year was sweet--turquoise and peach with rabbits--but I never got a post up about it.  One of the local grocery stores had these adorable bunny truffles in its store-made candy department, so I bought two for our place-settings.  If I'm remembering right, the ears were nuts--probably almond slices.  Anyway, I want to make these sometime--maybe for Easter 2015.  They "made" the table. 

 The girl-holding-her-cat figurine above was my favorite birthday gift this year.  This was how it looked after I painted it to resemble me and Stuffed.  I'm not a kick-knack person, but this little figure's so special to me. 

One of the highlights of this past year--that also somehow didn't make it onto the blog--was a Color Run 5k race my friend Marylou and I ran/walked/laughed our way through this summer.  I told Marylou if she'd come up from West Virginia for it and drive us to the race city, I'd pay for the motel stay and race fees.  We made it work, and especially since it was the first time we'd seen each other since 2008, we had a blast.  

That I was still finding purple and green powder from the run in my hair two showers later was a small price to pay.  It was my first race of any length since 2011.  So fun!  ♥

In June, I got home in time to see my favorite rose, Louise Odier, in-bloom. 

I also got to see all three of my mom's sisters.  The above picture of Mom and Aunt Laurie is my all-time favorite of them together.  This is the one I framed as part of Aunt Laurie's birthday gift last week.  ♥ 

During that June visit home, my aunt Heidi showed me this old picture of me and my mom, and it has become one of my most-treasured possessions.  I'd never seen it before.  Love, love, love.  ♥

I took photos I loved too. 

And wrote at least one post this year that made me proud.  I'd wanted to write about Papa and Grandma's crayon can for years, and I finally found the words.  

A double rainbow appeared behind our apartment this summer.  ♥

 Stuffed was as dear as ever.  ♥  Each year--each day--with this sweet soul is a gift.  

I walked many miles in 2014. 

And lost pounds that I have regained and lost and regained since then, the story of my life, it seems, but the glory is in the attempt, etc. 

In 2014, I began donating books and book character toys/dolls to my former elementary school's library.  The new year's first donations will be delivered when the kids return to school after holiday break next week.  :)

Home continues to be cozy and colorful.  

Mr. V wrote back!  A long letter arrived in the mail just a few days after I'd mailed out his in October.  ♥  He is now in-touch with my younger brother via Facebook, which also delights me.  I got in touch with my kindergarten teacher and second grade teacher this year too, and they and I have emailed back and forth a few times, as well.  My heart glows just thinking about it. 

More walks.  A glorious autumn, the most colorful one I remember ever seeing. 

And a year that ends with memories of more gifts happily created and given--Emmet!  ♥--

--and happily received. 

2014 was challenging and beautiful and colorful and full of love.  May 2015 shine just as brightly, and may I be a better and braver person by its end.    I'm working on it, and the work continues.   Ah!  Happy new year to you all!  ♥

One loses many laughs by not laughing at oneself. ~ Sara Jeannette Duncan

Today is my dear friend Marylou's birthday.  Ahh, Marylou!  She makes me laugh.  ♥  A classic Marylou story circa 1998:  She received one of those silly quiz-type emails from a friend, and one of the questions asked her to share her Most Embarrassing Moment.  She took her time with the goofy survey questions, described some humiliating episode, and emailed it to her friend.  Soon after, a response appeared in her inbox--from a complete stranger.  "I think you meant to send this to someone else," it read.  "I guess you have a new Most Embarrassing Moment."  That made me cackle when she first told me about it, and it still makes me laugh.  Almost every conversation with (and email and letter from) Marylou contains a gem like that.  

In her honor, and as a virtual birthday present, I will remind her of--and share with you--another story from around the same time.  After making my way from my college's library to the science center halfway across campus one afternoon, I arrived at the building's door in the usual crush of students all trying to get to class on time, and as I waited to enter it, I saw the reflection of one of the students beside me in the mob:  She was dressed up in this sweet outfit--a long-sleeved white blouse under a sleeveless gray jumper-dress with white tights--and I simultaneously admired her outfit and noticed  that (poor girl!) her dress was tucked into the front of her tights.  Those realizations and my sudden horror for her--a young woman exposed from the hip down in this horde of students!--and my wondering how to tell her--seemingly all swept through my mind in a single instant, and when we got closer to the door and its reflection, I looked up and saw that--The girl was ME.  (I die again as I write this.)  I had walked halfway across campus during the busy class-change time with my oh-so-cute dress hitched up into my tights--IN THE FRONT!--and no one (no one! not even another woman?!) TOLD me.  I had passed people I KNEW on the way to class.  I had  said hello to students and PROFESSORS.  (I die again and again.)  It has been about fifteen years and I am still both laughing and blushing even as I type this.  I don't remember how or where I adjusted my dress and tights--I assume right in front of everyone and right then, since I obviously couldn't go to class like that--and I remember nothing else from that afternoon except that later on, I told my coworkers at the writing center, and they all died along with me--both from the utter horror of it and from laughter.  

A year or so later, when I was settling into grad school, a card arrived from Marylou wishing me luck on my new campus.  Tucked inside the envelope was a handful of coupons for L'eggswear-brand tights.  Ha ha.  :)  

When the Dress-In-the-Tights saga somehow came up in conversation awhile back, Marylou's only comment was a dry "At least you were wearing underwear."  Indeed!  And never let it be said that I don't thank God for small favors.  :)  But still, truly:  GAH! 

 What can you do but laugh.  :)

Sigh.  :)  

'Happiest of birthdays, Marylou.  :)  ♥

It Began on My Answering Machine Ten Years Ago

Before my fall 1998 semester of college began, I spent a week or so--knowing how involved I get in these types of projects, probably more than a week--planning a re-do of one of my department's designated informational bulletin boards. I was the new president of the department's club and academic honorary that school year, and it meant a lot to me that we have an awesome-looking bulletin board in our building's main hallway. I spent who-knows-how-many hours that summer both writing and typing-up my favorite quotes that applied to our department and our club's goals and then "laminating" them with clear contact paper, searching out relevant words and phrases and pictures in magazines and newspapers and then cutting them out and gluing them to/bordering them with colored paper, making photocopies of cartoons and illustrations I'd saved, and creating informational posters and meeting-notices. When I'd amassed what I considered a big enough and good enough collection of items for the bulletin board, I packed it all into a backpack and a couple of other bags, along with a stapler, staples, colorful thumbtacks, and strong tape, and walked it all over to campus, about a half-mile from my apartment. Once there, I enjoyed a near-empty corridor as I created the bulletin board: no summer classes were in session that day, I guess, and I only encountered a few faculty members as I worked. It was a fun project, and I was thrilled with the results. The bulletin board looked so colorful and so creative and just so completely different from every other bulletin board I'd ever seen hanging on any wall in any department. I already knew, though, that while the bulletin board would obviously draw attention, no one would really share my delight in it, and I was okay with that.

The next day, there was an odd message on my phone's answering machine that went something like this: "Hello, this message is for Val. Val, this is Marylou [Last Name]. We met a couple times last school year, but I don't know if you remember me? Anyway, I just wanted to tell you how AWESOME your bulletin board in the department's main hall looks! I was in there the other day to meet with [So-and-So], and I saw the board and found out you'd done it, and I was just BLOWN AWAY by your talents and your creativity and your obvious enthusiasm, and I just CAN'T WAIT to see what you have planned for the club and department this school year! Really, you just did such an incredible JOB with it! You should be very proud of yourself! It really looks GREAT! Anyway, that's all I wanted to say! I just wanted to let you know! I hope you're having a good summer! Okay. BYE!"

I was stunned--and not only because this person had somehow gotten my phone number. I had never before had someone who was a stranger, basically, take the time to show me such incredible kindness. It was the sweetest feeling. I played the message over and over, sitting on the floor smooshed into one of my roommates' beanbag chairs. After listening to Marylou's message a bunch of times, I managed to write out her message on a scrap of paper so I could keep it with my other saved letters and important notes. I still have that scrap of paper with her exact words on it, and every time I've come across it while looking through my treasured papers, it's touched me again. That a stranger took the time to cheer me on with such kind words, even--or especially--over something as seemingly small and insignificant as a bulletin board, has always meant so much to me.
 
Although she was a graduate student finishing her thesis-semester and I was still an undergrad, Marylou and I ended up working together and sharing a class together that fall, so we saw each other frequently enough at school. Still, my shyness kept getting the best of me, and although I kept trying to tell myself to approach her and try to talk with her more--You KNOW she's nice! She called and left that nice message! Be brave! Strike up a conversation!--it took me at least a couple of months to psych myself up for an attempt at a friendship with her. One morning at work, though, I overheard Marylou telling a couple of the other grad students something she was sad about that day, and it struck a chord in me, and I sent her either a card with a note inside or maybe just a short letter that shared my own experience with what she was talking about. I don't remember how the next steps were taken, but we have been friends since.

Marylou and her husband and children were in town yesterday, and we all met up for supper. It was the first time Marylou and I had seen each other in seven years. Our 2001 visit found us both facing the challenges of what I remember as the Year from Hell, and yesterday's visit--well, every year, and every friendship, has its challenges and sees its ups and downs, but it was quite something to touch base again in-person, knowing it's been ten years now since that answering machine message. ♥

The Book of Good Things

Before she graduated from the university we were both attending in December of 1998, my friend Marylou gifted me with a personalized blank book. It stayed in its place on one of my apartment’s bookshelves for a few months before I decided on its purpose: The fabric-covered book would be my Book of Good Things. I would record in it every night those things that made me laugh, that made me feel comforted, that brought me joy, that showed me I was loved, and that renewed my faith in the world for another day. From the moment I decided to start the book, I found myself approaching my life—and the people and events in it—more optimistically: Of course today will be filled with goodness--because I have to come up with The List tonight!  Determination to look for the good made finding it much easier. 

I quickly learned that a great day was made great by “little” things, those moments that before would have been forgotten or that would have become vague memory blobs along the lines of “I enjoyed college” or “I love my family and friends.” As every student of creative writings knows, “Show, don’t tell.” So I soon saw the significance of documenting details: Funny lines from phone conversations, scenes from movies I wanted to remember, the look on someone’s face during a conversation or a moment of shared silence, the way a certain hug felt, songs and scents that would forever remind me of that day, what came in the mail, what a friend said when we ran into each other between classes. . . . Such small things, but by nightfall they became big enough to make me see that it had been a pretty good day.  On some level, I knew all these things before I started the Book of Good Things, but of course, you don’t really learn something until it’s changed you in some way. One of my all-time favorite quotes is from the wise and wonderful film critic Roger Ebert: “They used to tell us in writing class that if we wanted to know what a story was really about, we should look for what changed between the beginning and the end.” In that regard, my college-era Book of Good Things is the story of how I learned to see. Writing it helped me figure out what mattered.

And the things that make for good days haven’t really changed much for me since childhood, I know now. Give me someone to love and someone who loves me, a comfy corner to sit in, fresh air, good music and good books, pen and paper to write with, something to think about, something to laugh over, and something good to eat. It doesn’t take much to make me happy. The trick is seeing it.