This blog is about my life, so I will be including all aspects of my life. At the moment, I am currently remodeling a bathroom in my house. I am planning on updating this site with our work-in-progress. I really like the marble counter top and matching marble floor that I found through Katy Elliot's site. 
Well, it is official and by putting it on this blog, I will be held accountable. I am finally putting pen to paper (actually fingers to keyboard) and writing a novel! It is a brand new story and I think I am in love with it! I have been working on one story off and on for about five years and I think my constant revisiting was thwarting any forward momentum. 
One of my favorite sites is Creature Comforts and they brought these fantastic envelopes to my attention.
I am always drawn to the personal, handwritten note, even more so when it comes time for the holidays. We are becoming more and more impersonal as we become more technologically advanced. I am still a sucker for the photo Christmas/Holiday cards, but I also like the handwritten note inside the card. Some people just sign their names, like they are signing a check. Or worse, they have their names printed on the cards. Some people even send a list to the printers, who print the cards, seal them, and apply postage. I want something more meaningful. Give me a quick update, a note to say "hi" and spread some holiday cheer. Maybe if we all slowed down a little and took the time to personalize our holiday cards, it would benefit our hearts and souls and bring joy to others, as well.
Anyone else ever dream of being a ballerina? I am thirty-years-old and still find myself hit by a tinge of sadness when I realize that I will never be a ballerina. The grace and elegance is inspiring. I think this is why women try to emulate a "ballerina look" on their wedding day. 
Look what a splash of color and polka dots can do for the city streets. This was installed by "anycoloryoulike" in 2008 on the streets of New York as a vivid art intervention for urban beautification and environmental awareness.
If you are looking for a gift for a book lover who already has every book she could ever want, you could always consider going an alternative route. Literature Jewelry! Apparently these books are actually usable and wearable! My books are made using archival insides and antique outsides. Inside you'll find lineless strathmore drawing paper - thick, hand-torn, acid-free pages that work perfectly with ink, pens both thick and superfine, pencil, charcoal, and myriad other mediums. the pages are each hand sewn with archival linen binder's thread. The books' covers are made using hand-picked scraps and worn leather from wherever I can find them, cut to fit the appropriate size. The books can be carried daily and beat up. They are quite strong creatures.
The best books are the ones that do not follow a formula or try too hard to be a certain genre. When I read a book I know when I am being manipulated (messed with) and when I am being told a truth. The best stories present a truth about life in any way that the author finds best, even if it is in lies. An author has to be fearless in just not worrying about the verisimilitude of the story, or is it too romantic, too gross, too quiet or too loud. If the author feels the scene is a genuine, guts-out presentation of the ideas she wants to get across, she has to go with it, go for it, and give it to us. She cannot worry if her story will sell or tank completely (that's the agent's job). She has to write without fear of refusal.
I am delighted to report that these beautiful tubes of color are M&M's. Yes. Over six feet tall, filled to the brim with delicious, candy-coated chocolate of the M&M variety. This was the highlight (for my six-year old niece) of our trip to New York City. What was not the highlight was when I took her into a restaurant bathroom only to be greeted by a cockroach.
My aunt Fran passed away last Saturday. It was one of the most horrific days of my entire life. She had been battling Soft Tissue Sarcoma for two years and even though we were aware that it was incurable, we had hope. Because what else is there in life if you don't have hope? My aunt Fran was braver than any human being I have ever known, but I only really saw her bravery when this disease came into our lives. She battled sarcoma with everything she had and she did not lose faith for one minute. She stayed positive and upbeat and didn't let the disease take over.
The YMCA that I belong to is set up in a really interesting way. The bank of treadmills is positioned so that they face floor to ceiling windows that overlook the pool. Ah, the pool. When I’m not actually in the pool, I find this to be the next best place to be. I enjoy the distraction. I love watching the old women with their short, white hair, parade confidently down the length of the pool, looking for open lanes, space to spread out. They slide their strong bodies into the comforting and healing waters. There is nothing to slow them down in the pool, no arthritis, no joint pains, no swollen hips, the pool is their fountain of youth.
Today I watched a young mother enter the pool area with her two young children in tow. She was in her late 30’s and looked like the kind of mom who actually played with her kids. She looked like a get-your-hands-dirty, roll-on-the-front-lawn kind of mom. She was not a size 2 in a string bikini, but that’s what’s wonderful about a YMCA swimming pool, you never see bikinis because the women using it are there for themselves, not to impress anyone else.
So there she was, leaning down into the pool. Her legs were strong and fit but her stomach wasn’t flat, she had lumps and imperfections like everyone but she didn’t seem to even notice. She was the picture of health and happiness. She was wearing a bright red Speedo, the kind you wear for a purpose, to actually swim, to jump and dive and splash in. You wear these bathing suits for comfort and functionality, the kind of bathing suits you wore before you were even aware of your own body. Her whole body was solid, the kind of woman who would run a mile for fun, jump in a pool at a pool party because it was hot, wear her hair lose and messy because it saved time. She can keep up with the boys and be proud of the things she can accomplish with her strength and endurance.
These are the kind of women we want young girls looking up to and aspiring to be like. The kind of women who exercise because of the way it makes them feel, healthy and strong, not because it helps them fit into size 6 jeans. It is refreshing to see strong, active women and it inspires me to continue living my life in accordance with these core values. I want to be that young mother, and someday, those older women. I want to put all my energy into every day and sleep peacefully at night, exhausted from the pursuits of my day and the force I breathe into my life.
I find myself marveling at all the pregnant bellies I have seen lately. I feel like a baby who has just discovered her hands. It is just amazing that we, as women, carry around a human life inside our bodies! It just completely astounds me. And yet, I am not pregnant, have never been pregnant and the only close experience I had with pregnancy was my sisters and she delivered three and half months prematurely and was on bed rest (god bless her) for most of the time. So I didn’t get to experience, vicariously through her, of course, the constant kicks, the ever-expanding belly and the tiny feet finding themselves stuck under ribs (yes! This happens!...or so I’ve been told).
No, I don’t have baby fever (well, maybe a little), but I am in no way ready to be a mom. I am merely finding myself in a state of wonder about the whole pregnancy process. I look at my mom and can’t help thinking, “She carried me, in her stomach, for nine months!”
I’m sure this wonder and amazement will pass. It is but a fleeting thought. I am at that stage in life (30…gasp!) where many, many girls I grew up with are having children. Facebook seems to be a constant notification device of the babies that are being born left and right. Okay, maybe I do have a bit of baby fever. And while I love the thought of having a cuddly, squishy, soft, sweet baby of my own, I’m not ready for being up all night with a sleepless tot or changing diapers more frequently than blinking. For now I am going to enjoy my sleep, my flat stomach and the freedom to go for a run at a moment’s notice. But when that day comes, you can bet I am going to be spending hours staring at my own expanding belly and wondering, “How in the world…”
