by A.A. Milne
She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,
She wore her greenest gown;
She turned to the south wind
And curtsied up and down.
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
“Winter is dead.”
I took this photo yesterday in Starbucks and posted it on Instagram with the caption, “for tomorrow we cleanse. . .” not realizing that the paper beneath my cup sums up my advice for a happy marriage. “Talk things out. (have a ) sense of humor. (Sometimes) cut a rug.”
Serendipity.
Oh, and the definition of true love this week is agreeing to a cleanse because your adorable husband doesn’t want to do one alone. It might also be the definition for divorce by day 6.
I kidnapped IZ today for a quick trip to Cannon Beach. We usually try to head out there before the holiday for a little Christmas shopping–but with the 4th Sunday service this year, we didn’t make it. When today dawned a lovely sunny, promised 50 degrees: it seemed like the perfect opportunity to make up for our missed trip.
The Ocean always brings a new sense of calm and focus.
A mocha at Insomnia Coffee. They make their own whipping cream: chocolate flavored for mochas. YUM.
My man in his pink shirt! Hanging out with IZ always makes me feel better.
The dress code was “business casual” so of course I interpreted that to mean, artsy casual…
IZ, my husband who already works ridiculous hours, was invited to be on the board of a local charity. They’re looking for good people. He’s good people. And he has mad skills they can really use, so he said yes.
In theory I championed this idea (he comes home from board meetings with wine and donuts, what’s not to love) but it did bring up a few worries. Mostly around his work hours. He’s so busy. Really folks, the man goes constantly. And with our work at church and the 4th Sunday ministry, he really doesn’t have a free moment.
But then there is that perennial worry (because I’m vain, dontcha know) — what am I going to wear? Oh yeah, did I fail to mention that this charity puts on a HUGE musical festival in the area and there are events to attend?
HOLLA.
Oh my goodness… I love writing that.
IZ sees these events as a chance to go on romantic dates. He’s right: but it’s not without a wee bit of angst. In my case, I’ve been super lazy about buying new shoes. Living here on the edge, it’s always about shoes that can live up to the wind and the rain. Sure, it’s nice if they’re cute shoes, but really–you want shoes that will keep you protected in the weather. I have a great pair of boots that meet this description. And, they’re even cute boots; but I’ve been wearing them with jeans and sweaters. That’s hardly the attire you wear to a private concert of Schubert Lieder.
And you guessed it, I don’t have dress shoes that work with clothes you would wear to such an event.
Like I said, I’ve been lazy. Additionally, this is major role reversal stuff. Since he’s worked from home, I haven’t had to be his “wife” in public for ages. He’s spent years supporting me in all my ministry related fiascos, er, events. . . but it’s been ages since I’ve played the supportive wife role. Frankly, I’m out of practice!
So, my little dilemma begged the question: do I buy something that works with the boots? Or do I try to find a pair of shoes that will work with something in my closet? I don’t know, but the answer is always Goodwill.
I’ll cut to the chase, as this is really a post about nothing: other than I’m gloating. Hello $5 dress at Goodwill to the rescue. That looked great with my boots. (and, of course I layered a Mireio slip beneath it and tied it all together with colored tights! I’m loving THAT trend!) Girl has suitably artsy casual attire to attend an afternoon of opera and champagne.
That no bank was broken to clad my artsy self, well that’s just bonus material.
So, we went on our date on Saturday. It was lovely, lovely, lovely. For a few hours, I sat next to this man I adore, who works too hard, and we soaked in the beauty that is Schubert together.
In a week where we focus on all the things we’re thankful for: I’m thankful for Goodwill. I know, that’s crazy talk. But sometimes, Goodwill really is my Anthropologie.
Hi. I’m Wende and I spin plates.
Rather poorly at times, but spin I do. There are days when it feels as if there are more plates wobbling on the ground, just about to lose all sense of motion, than plates spinning neatly in the air.
Each day begins as a lottery, a game of chance: which plate meets the floor as the rest demand my attention? Will it be my little store? Will it be the gym? It will probably be the laundry; that plate spends so much time on the floor it’s established a dust colony. Today I will spin the work plate, the church plate, the “no child you are not dying of some strange illness you googled” plate.
I’d like to tell you that it all gets done eventually. But I’m beginning to suspect that eventually will never arrive. Incrementalism requires a great deal of patience and even more grace: a simple kind of self-love that says, “I’m worthy and enough, even if there isn’t enough of me to go around.” Be gentle with yourself, Wende. Walk gently.
It’s ok if the dog has fleas (OH MY GOD, how did this happen?) and your child is going to college in 3 weeks.
Breathe, Wende. Keep spinning those plates.
But some days, mother nature throws you a plate worth spinning. An 80 degree day in September: beautiful and clear. Balmy. The word is balmy — but only because Santa Barbara-y is not a word.
We’re not likely to get such an invitation again this year. So, I set down the work plate (though I gave it a few spins just to be safe) and worry plate. I stacked up the laundry and the pest control plates and everything else that can wait until tomorrow plate: and fell soul first into this beautiful day.
A long walk along the river. Spun! A fabulous dinner on the porch and finishing off that lovely Rosé. Spun! Raspberry Thyme Sorbet. Hey, I made that!! Taking goofy photos with the love of my life. I think you know the answer to that.
Check out Mireio tomorrow for the Raspberry Thyme Sorbet recipe.
