Hurry up, spring!

Ever since I read this blog post at Chronicles of a Country Girl earlier in the week, I have been meaning to buy myself a bouquet of flowers. It seemed that every day there was something more important, so it never happened. Despite one distraction after another, I decided that today was the day. Flowers I would have! After photographing the heck out of my bouquet, I played around in Photoshop until my heart was content, Izzy snuggled in my lap the entire time. I need photography time and Izzy needs a lap. It's a good combination that works well for us.

This is a frame by Coffeeshop Blog. Rita really has some great freebies!

I love my new fleur-de-lis bookends.

Used Kim Klassen's "Sweet Treat" texture.

These are a few of my favorite books.
Leonardo da Vinci is my favorite artist. His life and art are fascinating to me.
Desaturated the image, then used a texture by Jerry Jones called Box 4.

These daisies really were that bright. Aren't they cheerful?

Trying something new with my camera. If my big fat chair arm hadn't been in the way
I could've gotten the entire reflection on the marble table. I love it anyway.
Submitted this for The Creative Exchange.

This was my submission for week 8 of Focus 52.
Jan is the sweetheart that runs the group. Happy birthday again!!

Ten Sleep

This afternoon I plunked down in my home office recliner, finally ready to read the book my daughter got me for Christmas: The Daily Coyote by Shreve Stockton. It was going to happen — I was determined not to put it off another day.

I had spent the previous hour cleaning, and organizing the wires and cables behind the desk in my office. The tangled mass had been shouting at me for quite some time to unravel them and make them neat again. The sight of those wires paralleled my state of mind. Maybe if I could straighten them out, my nerves would follow suit.

With my chore completed it took some time and effort to relax. I kept fidgeting and shaking my foot as though impatient about something. I even made a couple of phone calls in an effort to delay reading. With no one else to call, I kept peering over the top of the book seeing objects that looked askew, and getting up from my chair to fix them. Why that was so important I'll never know. Sometimes my own mind doesn't explain itself to me.

Sparky nestled into my lap, helping to ease my restlessness. Who needs a valium when you've got this?

Once I finally settled down and began reading I soon drifted off to another world — a place completely different from the hustle and bustle of working 40 hours a week, cursing at rush hour traffic, and muttering obscenities under my breath to mean people. I was quickly transported to a place where folks in the community take time for one another, help each other. Where there's space to move around, and land that is breathtaking to behold. I didn't think a place like that existed in the United States, and neither did Shreve Stockton, until she stumbled on it while taking a very brave and exciting cross country journey on her Vespa.

About 10 pages in, I was ready to sell the house and all our belongings, and move to Ten Sleep, Wyoming. Shreve brilliantly weaves a story of a slower paced life with a real connection to the land and animals. Although I don't know if I could rough it the way she has, in a 12' x 12' cabin with few amenities, I'd like to try. Any price seems worth it to have some scenery for my eyes to fall on and a variety of animals around me. City life with all its chaos is sucking out my soul, leaving me dry, parched, and desolate.

Look at this photo of Ten Sleep. It refreshes my spirit.

I was looking down at my sweater tonight with two buttons struggling to hang on and thought, 'You know, you should mend this.' But knowing me, I'll wear it until the buttons eventually fall off, where it will then go neglected in a closet for several seasons before I finally throw it out or donate it.

Where has all my self-sufficiency gone? The bigger question: Did I ever have any? My grandfather built his own house with his bare hands. My grandmother made meals from scratch. They worked the fields, slaughtered cows, wrung the necks of chickens for dinner, and hung clothes out to dry. They patched, repaired, and reused things. In those days there was no running out to buy something on a whim.

Shreve wove her own rugs by cutting strips from wool coats purchased at a second hand store. She carved her own curtain rods out of tree branches. She got a cat to take care of her mice problem. A wood stove was her only source of heat in winter. Could I do that? Do I even have the capacity to think these kinds of things? Knowing me, I'd get to Wyoming and freeze to death. I'd be bitten in the night by rabid rats. I might starve.

Reading about the new life she has made for herself has obviously got me thinking about a different kind of life. I've grown extremely weary of our "shop 'til you drop" mentality. Lord knows, I have more stuff than I know what to do with. Maybe I should start by seeing if I can mend my own sweater. :/

I Can Cook!

Armed and dangerous with The Pioneer Woman Cooks cookbook, I am determined to stick to my resolution of cooking twice a week.

I had already tried Ree's (we're on a first-name basis now) Eggs in a Hole Saturday morning. YUM! Even Double D raved about it, and it's hard to get him enthusiastic about my cooking. But he picked up his pom-poms and cheered me on. Rah rah rah. Go Belle. Go Belle. I begged him to stop, but he couldn't help himself. Who knew eggs in a hole could excite a man so much? Ew, that sounds really strange.

I'll stop the hyperbole now.

Perhaps all that's been missing from my kitchen are Ree's magical recipes.

Feeling pretty confident after wowing hubby over with Eggs in a Hole, I geared up the next day choosing two recipes from my new bag...er...book of cowgirl tricks: Simple, Perfect Chili and Bacon Wrapped Meatloaf.

Last night I made the chili and I had TWO bowls. Two bowls, people! I'm afraid this cookbook is not going to help me with the other part of my New Year's resolution: eating less. :/

Running with Scissors

Started two blog posts over the weekend: one on aging and another about a Seinfeld episode that reminded me of my father. They shall remain in posting purgatory until I can make them funnier. I know, Seinfeld is already funny, so what's the problem? It's complicated, trust me; anything involving my dad is never easy unless humor is injected. Sometimes the funny is hard to find where he's concerned. The aging post was about how I innocently purchased something online, which resulted in a flurry of senior citizen retailers badgering me via email.

Yesterday, I came to the conclusion that I am thoroughly sick of TV. I am not equipped with the male mentality of clicking the remote indefinitely or watching mindless drivel. There must be something worthwhile that’s funny, educational, or animal-related, or I have no interest in watching. Meandering into the study, I decided to ponder how I spend my free time. Snuggling with Sparky and a blanket, I settled into the cozy leather recliner to look out the window and think. Of course Izzy soon became jealous, so it ended up being the 3 of us, which caused some quarreling until everyone found their place.

I came to the realization that my mind is constantly being fed through TV and internet, rendering me practically incapable of having my own creative thoughts or allowing me to express myself. This revelation was disconcerting. Maybe that’s why I’ve sought out photography, instinctively realizing that I need to create, produce, DO. Idleness is not my friend.

Double D came in and sat down at the computer across from me to research the laptop he wants for his birthday. He was moving at a snail's pace along the internet superhighway (remember that term?), so I instructed him on how to perform rudimentary searches and showed him how useful “tabs” are on our browser. This allowed us some time for brief snippets of conversation. With the idiot box on, simply talking and engaging with each other is not required, so this was a nice change.

During a lull in conversation my eyes scoured the bookcase and landed on “Running with Scissors” by Augusten Burroughs. Purchased several months ago, I had attempted to read it and only lasted one chapter due to trouble focusing. Started the book around 2:00 in the afternoon, left to run a few errands, picked up where I left off on my return, and at 3:00 the next morning I finished the last page. 304 pages y'all!! Disturbing, funny, compelling, gross, wicked and shocking are some of the descriptions that come immediately to mind.

It gave me enormous satisfaction to finish the book. The last time I read a book all the way through in one day, I was probably a pre-teen devouring “Gone With the Wind” or “The Yearling” – my two favorite books as a child. About 5 years ago or so I read “Memoirs of a Geisha” in a matter of days. Oh, and David Sedaris’ “Me Talk Pretty One Day” was a fun, funny, quick read. There are so few books I find worthy of my time anymore.

Two weeks ago my doctor upped my thyroid medication. Known problems with an underactive thyroid gland are the inability to focus and depression. Since starting the new medication, I feel more alert and energetic than I have in years. I detest western medicine and that I must take this chemical, but if it makes me feel better, I will get over it. I have a new hobby, books to read and places to go! Is it the medication or is it Memorex? To be continued....