A Case of the Mondays

I realized today that I get headaches fairly often, at least once a week. However, it was brought to my attention that the reoccurring headaches I get seem to always fall on a Monday. I'm not sure if this is entirely true every week, but it makes sense.

My only day off is Sunday so naturally Mondays are dreaded more than the other five days I work, not because I have more work on Monday, but because its just the beginning of a very long journey to the next day off.

Today's is particularly bad. And it technically started last night so this might not count as a "Monday-ache." I'm ready for this headache thing to subside...

Tomorrow is Tuesday, hopefully my body will understand it is not the day to have a headache. I guess I can schedule them for Mondays only, that would make my life a little easier.... If I have to have a headache, at least I would know it was coming.

frustrations with the legend

I shall meet the demand...

We watched a movie this week directed by Martin Scorsese called No Direction Home: Bob Dylan. This movie really got my blood pumping. It made me want to grab my guitar and play songs that make people think, make people want to live with purpose. How could one man write words and present them in a way so revolutionary? Its interesting to think, after watching this movie, Bob Dylan would have hated what I just said about him. He wanted never to be called a Revolutionary Figure, or The Face of his Generation.... He hated the silliness of his publicity.

This video makes me frustrated. Why couldn't he just play music he loved and let his viewers love it back? Why did he make himself so complicated? "I am not a folk singer." Come on Bob, yes you are! What other category does your music fall under?! And pa-lease! Do not tell me you don't care about your music. Words that come out of your mouth are beautiful and thought provoking, let us appreciate your work rather than question ourselves for admiring it. You frustrate me as a musician and writer.

Even though Bob Dylan doesn't ever admit he is passionate about his music, I believe he is deep down. Without passion how could he write what he writes? I have to think he cares to some extent and if he doesn't I can no longer listen to his music.

He said once, "What good are fans? You cannot eat applause for breakfast. You cannot sleep with it." I guess his cynicism kept him humble.

Regardless of his religious views, political standpoint, musical talent, or public limelight, Bob Dylan has a mind that I am curious about. So curious it keeps me up at night, and maybe that is his goal. He gets under my skin and torments me and makes me stand in awe all at the same time. I don't think there is a musician in history that could do the same thing Bob Dylan has done. Nevertheless, I think he is foolish to make such ridiculous statements to reporters while being interviewed.

Despite all the questions he raised during the sixties, I think we call all learn from Dylan's work.

How many times must a man look up

before he can see the sky?

How many ears must one man have

before he can hear people cry?

How many deaths will it take till he knows

that too many people have died?

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.

The answer is blowing in the wind.

Bob, I'll let you be in my dreams if I can be in yours.

Valentine's Day STRIKE!

This year for Valentine's Day my darling husband and I decided to lay low. I started off the day with making eggs benedict, yum! Shortly after breakfast we watched our wedding video, it really took me back to that wonderful day, all the people, the laughter. No surprise I cried as I watched the love of my life say his vows he wrote for me. Oh gosh, I love that man.

The day was sunny but slightly brisk, the clouds overhead were threatening, but could never overthrow the power of the warm sun. We walked with our coffees in hand up to Mt. Tabor. We however, were not the only ones there on this fateful holiday, we were not alone. As we trekked up the hill we heard sounds of crashing and yelling. Unsure of what awaited us at the top of the mountain, we continued walking, conversing about little things. Once we had reached the top we were shocked, but pleased, at what our eyes were seeing. Human Bowling. Yes it is true, these eccentric portlanders get on their little bikes and petal as fast as they can into traffic cones, hoping they can get a strike. The crowd grew as more and more wondered what the peculiar ruckus was up north. This made my day, knowing people throw themselves into traffic cones on Valentine's Day, the holiday when single people would rather die than recognize they are single.

No one seemed to be getting hurt, it was a pretty safe sport considering the circumstances. Lucky for these "bowling balls" the cones are forgiving and soften the blow. Most walk away with some mud on their hinies and the sting of victory over the cones they recently dominated. Portland has hit an all time high for me at this point, I love it. I love that I could observe such a fantastic sport. I plan on attending next year, with a better camera.

Christmas in February

Its cloudy and lame outside, which is why I'm inside! Inside my warm home, in my warm sweats, wrapped in a warm blanket... all I need is a warm coffee to keep me company. Unfortunately, that would involve me getting up, and that I just can't do.
Today was not a complete waste however, I made a Christmas tree skirt! Shortly after Christmas I stopped by the fabric store knowing they would have some fabulous sales on Holiday fabric, and, they did! After much confusion trying to figure out the pattern from my mom's tree skirt, I prevailed and thus constructed my very own. I'm super excited and looking forward to the many possibilities this circular shape can bring me too, like circular blankets? Or rugs? Or maybe even a medley of textures and fabrics to create a headboard? Who knows! The possibilities are endless - I've never made anything in a circle before!

A small side note... I have a confession,
I regret to announce (to my ridiculously small audience) that I am indeed a Miley Cyrus fan. I know I know I wish I wasn't, but when Party In The USA turns on the radio I can't help but sing along. I don't like her, but man her songs are catchy!

It's not quite finished yet, but here it the top of the tree skirt.

some crafty birds

I made these pillows a few months ago when the husband and I first got married. I needed to make hour home a little more warm and home-ish. This was my first attempt at applique and, if I do say so myself, I think they turned out pretty dang good.




Next project for the living room will be some coordinating drapes for our sad looking windows! By the way, appliques have saved my life. I am loving this whole new world I've just began exploring!

feelings

I feel...

I feel like I should have a baby because everyone is doing it. I feel like I don't want to have a baby, and therefore I'm not going to... at least for now. I also feel as if Christmas is almost overrated, and I say that mostly because I work in retail and there are a lot of selfish people out there. I feel like this time of year often brings out the worst in me, and I'm not sure why. Maybe because deep down I'm one of those selfish people just like the people I see in the mall. Or maybe because knowing some people won't have a Christmas tree or presents brings me down. Or perhaps I feel like Christmas has turned into a depressing marketing ploy and just a way for corporations to make money.

I find it interesting that the biggest shopping day of the year is the day after the day we are supposed to be thankful for everything we have. How ironic is that? We sit down to a wonderful table full of food, eat until we are stuffed, share why this year is great and we are so thankful for the roof over our head and the food the Lord has blessed us with and how "there is nothing more I could ask for at this moment than to be with these people in this place" and so on... then we wake up at four in the morning to get the best deals on things no one really needs. Or better yet, we stay up all night because some stores open at midnight.

What is wrong with us?

And sure, we can justify ourselves by saying all we get is socks and presents for other people. But really? Even if you are buying something for someone else you are still falling into the trap. The greedy "get the best deal" trap. And the reality is stores don't even have that many sales! Don't go to Forever 21 on Black Friday, the sale is crap. Things are shipped in specifically for that day with one price on them and a discount sign along with it so you think you are getting a deal, but you actually are getting the price you would get on any other day. They also get boxes of sale rack items from other stores sent to them so it looks as though everything was marked down for that day, however, they are just summer dresses no one would by in November. And I have no doubt that every other store does the same thing.

What a hoax!

I also feel like I wish I was a kid again and didn't have to know the sad truth about any of this stuff. I could just wake up Christmas morning with presents under the tree and the mystery of how it all happened. Unfortunately, we cannot return to those days. Instead, I'm stuck with knowing too much but I'll survive. I was encouraged to know that despite all the shoppers running around the day after Thanksgiving, there were a large handful of individuals I spoke to that avoided all sales that day. Praise God we didn't get sucked into consumerism!

So this Christmas avoid consumerism, get simple gifts, hug your mom and I guaranty she will be more thankful for that than the perfume you got on sale at Bath and Body Works. Some of the best gifts can't be unwrapped.

and I feel like that is what it is all about.

singing in the rain.

It rained today. No. It poured. It rained cats and dogs today.

This photo was taken during a flood in 07'.
Today was not quite this bad where I live, though some streets could compete. I wish I could have taken a picture today while waiting to pull onto Stark as cars unknowingly entered much larger "puddles" than they expected, some taking up the entire right hand lane. Today's storm made me think of past Portland weather I've faced in my time.
The earliest one I can remember was the flood of 1996. We lived in a perfect home in Troutdale. I was six, my brother was eleven and my sister was nine. After begging our mother to allow, the three of us put on our rain boots and trekked outside through our back gate to the park area where we would normally play Power Rangers. With a stick in hand we measured all the puddles, the largest being the ones where the water would go over the top of my boots and fill them up.
This flood also brought about one of the first tragic experiences in my life. Again, I was six, therefore "tragic" is now used lightly.

My dad had to go into the basement and fix a burst pipe that had flooded the entire underneath of our house. My job was to hold the flashlight while Daddy found the leak. Both siblings on either side of me - one would hope I would be safe as I leaned over the hole in the floor - no such luck. While trying to maneuver myself on the lid of the cut-out floor board the whole thing slipped down and I fell in a puddle face first. Drenched and so afraid, I have no doubt I thought I was going to die at that very moment. However, I did not die, with all the eyes watching my humiliating move I was more than safe moments later, wrapped in a blanked being held by my mom.
This story makes me laugh.

The next storm I can recall would be when we lived on Greenway Lane in Gresham. The Northcrafts lived just up the hill from us and came down to play in the snow. We crafted the largest snowman with our dads. One of the greatest memories of snow. I wish I remember what year that was, I'm thinking some time around 2000.

Next big one, again I don't know the year, about 2004 or so. School was closed for a week and I was willingly stranded at Sarah's house. Her mom made us mini hot dogs wrapped in Pillsbury crescent rolls and chocolate chip pancakes. The snow had began to melt and refroze again leaving a thick layer of ice over the top. We were outside for hours only coming inside for breaks to defrost our fingers and get a snack. Then back outside, this time with her dad to do cookies in the Jeep on nearby deserted roads.

Those were the good old days. Now I realize the seriousness of a storm and all the factors I never would have thought of years ago. Yes, I still love the thrill of a stormy day and the excitement when the power flashes, but there is a point when the roads cannot be closed and people do have to get to work. Not everyday can be a snow day. Maybe if all got paychecks for snow days... but thats a whole other story. One thing I appreciate now about the weather that I did not comprehend as a child was the beauty of rain and snow. At the time I only cared if it could be formed into a ball to throw or crafted into an angel from what used to be grass. Now I see this time of year and I cannot get enough of it. Even from the soaked window of my car. My windshield whippers busily doing their job smearing the droplets out of my view.... I love that sound. The rain hitting hard along with the swishing sound. So good. So fall. So Portland. I'm so soaking up this rain. Welcome to the season of wet jeans around our ankles and making mad dashes to our cars.