I was telling a blog friend last night about my new conviction to have dinner before dessert. Hypothetically speaking, of course.
We live in a world where dessert comes first. New homes, new cars, new clothes, new furniture; things thing things. All before dinner. Before we are ready. Before we can afford it.
It's so true, isn't it? I LOVE dessert before dinner. How often have I said, "It's just ONE cookie. It won't hurt my appetite." But that's not really true, is it? It does make me feel like I don't want dinner anymore.
I like nice things. Even if I buy it at a thrift store (and I am a good thrift store shopper). Even if I got it on sale. Even if I can afford itright now. I'm still buying it.
However, this past year I have become obsessed with Dave Ramsey and his baby step method to become debt free. It's a new plan, people!
That is why I am working right now. OUR PLAN for the next year:
We sacrifice = I work = we use my ENTIRE income to pay off debt (medical bills, credit, student loans, cars) = no unnecessary bills = financial freedom.
It's a hard plan. Really hard. Did I mention how hard it is? But it's having our dinner first.
So guess what's happening in my neck of the woods right now? Tiny apartment living. Lack of space. Lack. of. period.
And it's okay.
Although we've had to get inventive.
I am typing right now in our adorable Harry Potter closet. Hubby was BRILLIANT and realized that our closet underneath the stairs would be the perfect office. And it is.
My canned goods are stored under a hallway sink. My cookbooks are crammed into every inch of space above our fridge. We bought a not-as-nice-as-we-are-used-to couch because it was a wiser purchase. I still don't have dining room chairs. I still don't have a dresser for my clothes. I don't have a lot of things that I want. But.... baby steps.
And frankly, although it is not the sweetest meal,I amenjoyingdinner.
This afternoon I talked to my adorable sis-in-law for a total of 45 seconds. I was at work and feeling bad for not having time to talk to her at work, so the conversation was pretty much all her talking and me "mhhhmmm-ing". But she said something that I have kept with me all day today. She said, "I miss you guys a lot, but I can tell you are happier there. There is such a difference even in your blog." Really? Really? I mean, I could feel it. But I didn't know anyone else could too.
I was riding in my car yesterday and I made a wrong turn so I ended up driving an extra 30 minutes (GPS where are you?). I had a moment when I knew this frustration rising up inside me could go very very wrong, so I did something to stop it.
I rolled my windows down.
It was a cold wind outside. Add on the speed of a large highway and it was close to freezing. But the air was so clean and the colors outside were so vibrant that I couldn't help doing just that... feeling it.
I took a deep breathe.
I listened to my heart.
I could see again.
My foggy window from the last year was open, and I was thankful.
I was noticing on my photography blog that there were some green bolded words--as if they were a link. Then I clicked on them and they went to some obscure site. I went in to edit my post thinking I could do it that way, but it's something to do with the label icon and I can't fix it. It's definitely an outside job....
Dude. They are all over this blog and my other one. Random words here and there.
We've been canning apples every weekend because "hello" we are in Washington! And they are delicious and cheap at our local fruit/veggie market. A quick shout-out to my hubby for begging me to can with him.
But today the market started closing for winter :(
But wait! They are having a get rid of sale on all produce:)
More boxes of apples for us!
What do you do with YOUR apples? So far we have made apple pie filling and apple butter. We're not a fan of applesauce though. I use it for baking, but 1 jar lasts me forever. Any recipes other than those and/or ideas?
So I just have to say that I love the blog world. I love reading about old friends and new friends and getting ideas and inspiration and learning about life from other's points of view. Sometimes it's an escape. Sometimes I need to take a time-out from blogging because it's an escape. And then other times I am so immensely grateful for the friendships I have formed (and re-formed) because of this glorious internet based world. Friends that I have never met and may never meet in person, but kindred spirits just the same.
I was reading one such blog tonight; a friend whose blog I read especially when I want to be lifted into a dream-like state. Her photography and poetry take my breath away and I am so grateful to have access into her soul. Like a letter.
Blogging is almost like receiving a letter. You know that anticipation when you check the mail? The intense reading.... the nodding in agreement... the understanding and smile on your lips...
I love it.
However, as much as I adore this virtual world, there is something to be said of an actual correspondence. Receiving a real letter in the mail. Feeling the paper between your fingers...rubbing the stamp to see where it is from....
And so, without further adieu, I would like to propose a letter exchange.
Sign up and I will coordinate and give you a name of someone to write. You will be pen-pals, and the only requirement is to send 1 letter a month. You can do more than that if you have a chance, but no less. And it has to be a real letter. Not typed! VERY do-able, even in this fast paced world. We'll do this exchange for 3 months, and see how it goes....
What do you think? Any takers? Shoot me an email with your name and address to carriestroud@gmail.com.
And for some inspiration on HOW to write a letter, you really must read this book!
When I was in 8th grade a girl in my class asked what shampoo I used because my hair was so lovely. I lied and told her Pantene, because that is such a NICE shampoo. In actuality I used Suave.
Boy. I fooled her.
Anyways, since my orange hair fiasco I have yet to get my hair done. But it is time, my friends. It is time. I'm looking for a hair stylist who doesn't break the bank but also keeps my hair on the brown color wheel. And they need to be on the Upper East Side if possible. Any suggestions?
What better post to celebrate Halloween than our trip through New Orleans? It was very short but very grandiose and fun. And of course, a bit spooky!
First off, Cafe Du Monde for some beignetes. A must have. However, it was SO hot and SO humid that the moment I took my camera out of the bag the lens fogged up. Anyone have a solution to this? I was barely able to take any pictures...and the one I got has hubby's hand across the table. Oh well. Sexy hand, right?
Mardi Gras mask? Check. Beads? Check. New Orleans best muffuletta? Check.
We headed into the French Quarter which is always historically a treat:)
At this point, I had to run Spike back to the car because he was wheezing and sounded like he was going to die. He remained wheezing like that for the rest of the day. SERIOUSLY. Bulldogs #1) don't do well in heat and #2) are notoriously lazy. Apparently, walking 4 blocks was too hard on him. Punk.
While traveling to the garden district we hit the famous Lafayette Cemetery. Our timing was perfect so we were able to hear a tour guide talk to her group about it. Unlike your normal cemetery, there were rows of raised tombs that housed "families". The water level was obviously a concern there years ago as well, so these raised tombs were used in case of flooding. It is also much cheaper to use a family or "society" tomb because the square footage is reduced, therefore reducing the price.
Here's an example of a "society" tomb. Made me so sad.
Entire families buried from generation to generation in one tomb
Last of all, anyone see the Alfred Hitchcock movie "The Birds"? While stopping in Oklahoma one early morning we drove into the Wal-mart parking lot. It was covered in birds. And more birds. Crowing. Gawking. LOUDLY. They were everywhere. On the rooftops......grounds..... seriously. I couldn't get inside soon enough!
We stayed with my family for a few days while our whole housing situation/job got worked out. The upside to this adventure is that I got to hit the storage shed. While looking for old family movies and not finding them because "oh! maybe they are in the other storage shed," I happened upon two huge containers labeled Carrie.
And what a find they were. My mother saved everything, and I mean everything. Baby clothes, floral containers from when I was born, drawings, letters, birthday cards, hospital receipts listing each accident/injury, poster boards with long explanations of mine, awards, ballet shoes, etc.
While lifting out each item from the boxes with my own daughter, I reflected that 1) My mom needed to watch Clean Sweep and 2) I was so thankful to my mother for saving it all. To smell the oldness. To read each word. To button those tiny dress buttons. To see, to feel, to remember.
Each item was me. My childhood. My memories. And it felt good to remember.
AND, to top it all off, I read an incredibly insightful and lovely blog post here inspired by this poem and just HAD to do it as well. Mine is quite long-- but do try this writing exercise yourself!
Where I Am From I am from handmade clothes, Winnie the Pooh decor, Amish countryand homemade sticky buns. I am from the front line of eleven children, moments of mothering when I should have been playing, but loving that role anyway. I am from a life of travel, moving, experiencing every side of the country and stopping at every historical battleground. I am from bedtime stories of Davy Crocket, western movies, Titanic songs and a night sky with flying saucers. I am from burning hot desert family vacations, riding in a rusty station wagon with green vinyl seats, restlessly sleeping six children in the back. I am from swinging, flying, dreaming, singing, praying so so hard. I am from long drives to church, peanut butter cheese crackers and homemade movies. I am from nervous first days at school, hoping to fit in again, wishing I had hit puberty two years later. I am from where the winds come sweep'n down the plains, magazine collages and Braum's ice cream. I am from humid summer days with wind in my hair, random photo shoots in fields with cows, red hot cinnamon candies in the basement with musty smells and thrift store finds. I am from courage, wit and sarcasm, fear of failure, and surprising strength in the midst of trials. I am from sitting on my orange couch in the attic, lilac candles and watching Christmas lights year round. I am from a world where dreaming is encouraged, where art is what we mold from our hands, where creativity is burnt into your soul. I am from an orange knit hat, green vest, white collared shirt and torn jeans with water bottle in hand. Always. I am from the belief that schools should spend more money on the arts instead of football, that you should laugh only after a two hour cry, and that high school doesn't really prepare you for college. College is much easier, so chill a bit my high school math teacher. I am from sitting under trees and reading poetry, writing letters and listening to Bach. I am from the knowledge that I am from so much more, that there is no beginning nor end, that eternal love is felt when I look into the eyes of my child, and that every being on earth has a heart that is good.
We sent a small box to my MIL in the mail the other day and Kai decided he wanted to hold it while in line at the post office. He shook it and asked what it was. I told him to guess.
He said, "Is it toys?" "No" "Is it alligator?" "No," but a smile appeared on my lips. "Is it garbage can?" Holy crap I laughed so hard.
The other day my dear friend opened her door to me holding a brown bag of ingredients for my risotto. I then proceeded to make it for her in her oh-so-lovely kitchen because, you know, that's just what you do.
And then I proceeded to cry woe is me while my son peed on her carpet. (In his defense, I just realized that he was trying to find the bathroom door instead of sneaking into her bedroom like we thought and just couldn't make it.)
I left thinking, "really, could it have been more weird?" She wasn't weird, because frankly, you cannot help but adore this gal who loves me unconditionally. But instead it was weird that... "here I am-where I want to be" and I cried and lamented and I was weird. Not exactly the visit you hope for after a year of separation. I hope she can forgive me.
But still, I left thinking about things.
I left thinking how nice it was that she was able to tell me that I was a good mother. And that I believed her.
I left realizing that it was okay to not love snuggling with my daughter anymore and that when they are so big it really does just feel awkward. I still do snuggle with her, of course, but it's nice to know that feeling awkward is normal.
I left wondering when it was exactly that I changed from a girl to a woman. A woman who's burden is heavy and who is not always funny anymore and that it is normal to not be as funny.
I left grateful for true friends. Ones that let me make them risotto and let my son pee on their carpet. Ones that love me for me. That don't mind my tears and drama and lack of silliness.
I left knowing that it is okay to be an adult. That I am still lovely as a woman who has bigger challenges than what to wear in the morning. That life is not all sunshine and rainbows. That peace can be found in the car with Dora the Explorer playing in the background.
It is okay to be where I am and to be me...all grown up.
After all... grown-ups get to make risotto.
And before some other friends who shall remain nameless get offended that they didn't get a visit and risotto-- don't worry, your time will come.
Although we have only just arrived and are in the hustle of directing our new life here, my thoughts have been led to another matter entirely.
My daughter.
She is turning 8 years old in a few weeks. Unbelievable. In our religion the number 8 is a very big deal because it when you are baptized into our church. We believe that until that time you do not fully understand your choices and that you have finally reached the age of accountability.
After she is baptized she will also receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. A comforter (some would call it a conscience) and guide for her life as she listens to the promptings. It's a really happy day, one of growing up, rebirth, and one that I remember with such clarity and warmth.
However, I have been fearful that I have not prepared my daughter enough for this day. With all that has transpired in the last few months, I have felt a bit distracted. And so I have been in search of ways to help her understand the importance of this day as well as keep the symbolism alive in her heart for years to come.
Enter my dear friend Amanda who searched for such a thing a few months ago and found this story. When I read it, it brought to tears to my eyes and I knew it was exactly what I needed to do for my own sweet girl.
I was also thrilled to find this idea as well: I think a very large white fluffy towel is mandatory!
My Baptism Towel
This towel will help to remind you Of your glorious Baptism Day, When you chose to follow the Savior, To be righteous, and walk in His way. When you come up out of the water, So pure and so clean, without a sin; Use this towel to dry and to warm you And prepare for new strength from within. A Gift from your Father awaits you, By hands blessed with priesthood power. The Holy Ghost can then guide you, And direct you from hour to hour. Sometimes you may not heed his warnings, This Comforter whom God has sent. That’s when you will need Christ’s Atonement, So you can pray, fast, and repent. Your Heavenly Father smiles with you As you enter His Kingdom, His way. This towel is a special reminder Of the covenants you make today.
I can't help but feel like I've just been on vacation for a year. I still know where everything is, I know when to hit the road to avoid traffic, and I know exactly where the best Asian markets are. I guess HOME never leaves you:)
So my Seattle peeps.... let's get together and embrace this cold weather and fall colors and crisp apples that I dearly missed.
can i just say that when a little girl makes a lemonade stand with a cute sign and sits in the hot sun during a garage sale.... it is MANDATORY to buy some!!
i am APPALLED at people in the world today.
is 25 cents really too much to spare?
my poor girl.
so many "no thank you's".
i would buy all the glasses of hot lemonade in the world to make a kid smile.
just the other day i stopped and bought some from two boys whom i paid way too much.
that's just what you do.
not my picture, obviously...do you see all that cash?
I told Aaron that for me this has been the hardest year of my life.
"Don't you agree?" I said.
"No," he said.
"But it has been. I just know it. I have felt more sadness this year than any other. I have felt alone this year more than any other. I have felt unsuccessful and boring and uninspired and worried and no one has known. I have kept it a secret from the world. No growth. I am numb."
Aaron chirped in before I could say much more, "But don't you remember that one year? The one where Brianna was born and hospitalized and then I was hospitalized for my kidney disease? Or what about that year that you were put on bed rest and then we moved and I found out I had Multiple Sclerosis? That was a really hard year."
"Oh I know. But those years I saw growth because I got through it all. I felt the love of my Father in Heaven and he pushed me through each obstacle. Each year that I managed the apartment complex while trying to balance my children and your illness and friendships etc, I at least saw growth. Not this year. I am so disappointed."
He sighed, "Well, maybe you just haven't seen it yet. Maybe you needed a rest."
Today I am fasting. I am giving up food and water to help my body and spirit align. I am praying that my heart will heal from this "lack of growth" and that I will be in tune to what my Heavenly Father is trying to tell me. That he will provide a way for me and my family to grow again.
I want to be pushed. I want to finish the race this year knowing that I tried my hardest and got through it. I want to be in tune to others needs before my own. To be creative in a way that makes me happy. To teach my children that it is okay to fall down as long as you get back up. To recognize the fresh ground before the snow. I want to grow.
Introducing my favorite book ever. The Big Pumpkin by Erica Silverman. When I was a teenager I was introduced to the wonder that IS this book as I read it to my younger siblings. In fact, I was so inspired that I colored a note card and hung it on my wall for inspiration that same day. It has been on my wall ever since. My favorite line sent me to the floor in hysterics:And she kicked that pumpkin.
The story is about a witch who grew a pumpkin so big that she cannot remove it from the vine. She desperately wants to make pumpkin pie on All Hallows Eve, but obviously cannot until she can move the darn thing. A ghost, a vampire, etc each come by to help the frustrated witch. However, they cannot move it either. Throughout each exhausting attempt she kicks that pumpkin, and each time I roar with laughter.
How appropriate is that, really? I mean, is that not exactly what each of us does when something doesn't seem to be going our way? It certainly rings true in my life! In the end, teamwork is what helps that glorious witch (and guests) to move that pumpkin and make that pie after all.
Life is hard folks, but let's all release some stress this season by kicking some pumpkins, shall we?
Do I look old? Or tired? Or all of the above? The ultra-talented Tara Whitney participated in a weekend challenge that included taking a picture of herself right when she woke up. It's supposed to be self-revealing or something. Ya. Or something. Can I just say how HARD this was to see? The camera doesn't lie. Maybe if I had long eye lashes? heehee.
Hubby said to me the other day as we were looking at a picture of a girl in a magazine, "your eyes look like hers. Oh wait. No. She has long eyelashes. Why don't YOU have long eyelashes?"
"Well I don't know.....dear. (grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr) Maybe it's because everyone in Hollywood wears fake eyelashes and maybe you should consider how lucky you are to not be married to someone who's plastic." My lack of eyelashes have come up frequently in my lifetime.
There was that one time when my mom decided to start eating green chilies for her third pregancy and every baby came out with long eyelashes after that. My brother and me? Being the first and second and not the third, not so much.
Then there was that moment when I had my own baby and wished and wished and wished that she would have eyelashes like her daddy. And thankfully she did.
And then there is the issue with the lash curler. Apparently you HAVE to use one before you put on mascara. But what if it's pointless to use one because you have no lashes to curl? Do they make a curler for that? I didn't think so.
Well frankly, I'm tired of long eyelashes being such a freak'n deal. It's time to put away the myth that stubby eyelashes are wrong somehow. They can be cool too, you know.
For instance
I have twice as few eyelashes that get into my eye. enough said.
My make-up routine requires one less step because ta-da -- no need for the lash curler!
Way less goopy mascara sitting on my lids.
Those extra-long-lash-appearing mascara commercials? Totally unapplicable so no need to buy the latest product = $ saved. cha-ching.
I just KNOW there is something else. But you get the idea.
What's up? I cannot believe the lack of people participating in my giveaway. Did I mention you'll be receiving some prints and a box full of really great stuff? It's over on Saturday so hop to it!
Second of all, dear husband watched this prank show and is now convinced that he needs to pull pranks on me all the time. Today he put a rubber band on the spray nozzle in the sink and asked me to fill up a pot. Yep. Soaking wet. SO NOW, I need some really good pranks to pull on him. I am searching back to my girls camp days...
Third of all, dear son likes to empty entire bottles of shampoo in the tub every night. Tonight it was half the toothpaste. Any ideas on how to overcome this? Besides me watching him every second, of course.
And fourth of all, I sold my lovely chocolate brown leather couch and I need a moment of silence please...
Dear Couch,
I loved you the moment you were carried into my door on Christmas Eve 2005. You have been good to me and my children, never leaving a mess that could not be cleaned up, and never letting dog hair stay. You were there through the thick and thin, okay---well, I'm still thick so we'll ex that part. You lovingly held my unfolded laundry, baby drool and random Goodwill finds with care until they could all be cleaned and put away. You were there for every friendly conversation and every "my husband vs. my girlfriend debate". You cradled our friends for every movie night. Even in the worst winter power outage in Seattle history--your fold out bed helped us sleep by the fire with ease. Your clean lines and modern design never wavered in comfort, and I thank you for that, dear couch. Your color has contrasted beautifully with every living room color I have chosen and every orange or teal or moss green pillow I could throw on you. Not many couches could be as versatile, you know. You will always be remembered with fondness and love. Adieu.
our first night together
with friends...
oh, and can I just vent a minute? The new buyers of our house are repainting my beautiful blue-gray living room...taupe. Can you believe that crap? Apparently, she doesn't have a chocolate brown couch to contrast with. To each his own.
My blog has officially become boring. I don't even like to come to it. It has been a bit hectic getting ready for this move and recovering from so much, so I havn't had much time to thoughtfully prepare the lovely and deep and hilarious blog posts I know you so desire.
And so,
Let's do something fun for a change, shall we?
Yes. That means a giveaway.
My farewell to sunny Florida.
Leave a comment with your favorite FLORIDA post (that means from October '08 to now) and you will be entered to win a box full of sunny goodness and random "I don't want to pack this but I don't want to have a garage sale either" stuff. And maybe a lovely printor two.....
Oh. this is so exciting!
But don't be all boring and say the last thing I posted. Shake it up a bit, my peeps!
(note card via my wall since I was 15)
I have no idea who took this picture 
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