well

What can I say about this week really, except that I haven’t yet left the OTA meeting. Straggler. The cookies are stale, we’re going to have to work on that. And occasionally someone brews the coffee without grounds, or sets the machine to percolate without water. (Recurrent personal nightmares, truestory.) Again and again I fall into the trap of “What I am NOT” as opposed to being all “I AM – “ #intuitive #merciful #perceptive #clever #introvert #winning #awesomesauce #etc. The goal isn’t vanity or self-adoration, it’s merely acknowledging in myself what I acknowledge in others. It’s like my golden rule should be, “Do unto yourself as you do to others.” Or “value fantastic qualities in yourself as you do others,” really, because let’s be honest I’m not perfect when it comes to things like patience. (Wait, I just put myself down again, didn’t I. Damn.)

Sidenote: I love Australian TV and British TV too really, because there’s a general air of, Yes, life is shit in a lot of ways, but we accept this and we banter wittily about it and sometimes it gets us down for sure, but mostly we don’t dwell. Whereas our culture is all, WE MUST FIX EVERYSINGLEONE OF OUR TINY LITTLE PROBLEMS SO THAT OUR LIVES CAN BE ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. And thereby attain some nonexistent level of happy and shiny so we can brag to all our friends.

I do feel a little bit more in gear at this point over camping, acknowledging that I was always going to get it done, because I always do, and those extra days of stressing about it probably weren’t necessary. And then I tried to quit my leadership position yesterday because it was feeling like an albatross, but the response was bafflingly supportive and let’s talk about this some more and not at all what I presumed it to be. (Or still presume it to be, untrustingly?) And I realized that possibly the albatross was/is the aforementioned trap of self-sabotage...

Basically, it is time to camp.

I have discovered at least that one of my buoys is humor and I ought never to let it go. Also there are, as always, beautiful things. Like that tomato of purply gorgeousness, OMG SO TASTY. Colorful peppers. Surreptitious Netflix marathons. And the delight of perusing both old and new books for my library. Illustrations from the 40s and 50s ROCK, as do Lego reenactments of Bible stories. Among other things.

love to you and now BLOGalready ;) …

p

er,

So instead of blogging I was watching Haymitch, and Katniss and Cinna and Peeta, and the thing is, were we ever out to impress Haymitch? No, we’re just trying to STAY ALIVE.

But then again, his thumbs up after the apple incident is priceless insofar as rewards.
I think I’d like to find some gold eyeliner and channel Cinna with it.
On the whole, I feel like the word TYPHOON trumps hurricane. in addition to the names. Stay safe, you! My cold has mostly dwindled into stuffy nose and malaise, but no more prickly skin so that’s good.
And what about this sprout growing out of my sink? the drainer side, which I swear I cleaned less than a month ago – conditions for an errant mystery side must have been ideal? I can only think about it so much before I get the shivers.

I’m prepping for camping, theoretically, which involves list-making (our favorite!) and vaguely watching the days tick by, wondering how it will all really come together. Because I have less than a week when I’d be more comfortable with two… Mainly I’m lacking recipes and food lists. The rest of it will pack itself I feel. Right? And we’ll totally find the place, which is what – 2, 2 1/2 (3?) hours away? Somewhere in there.
I feel like it’s going to rain this time. We’re overdue.
Also, even though the structure of *school* is in place and I am by nature more productive in these instances, I feel like there are things Needing to Happen that are Going to Creep Up on Me. Like consignment sale-ing, and library organizing. and this random brunch we’re having in a few weeks for a group of leaders at church? among other things. Maybe I need to launch a separate series of lists for checkmarking.
…?
We did harvest our corn the other night and sure there were only 4 1/2 ears and that’s it for the year, but SUCCESS! for a first-year garden. Also, one of my purple tomatoes is turning actual purple. It’s very exciting. Next year: soil boosting. As long as no one takes our titles from that time we gardened in France…oh wait.
Corrie TenBoom must be on my list for someday. In the meantime I’ve been quote-questing for the library bulletin board, a quote about how reading or books allows you to imagine another’s experience would be ideal. but Mother Teresa quotes keep distracting me with their awesomeness, about the true poverty of the Western world lying not in lack of money but love – “There are many in the world dying for a piece of bread but there are many more dying for a little love.”
…
What is your weekend holding? Since you’re practically to Sunday by now!
Lastly, this is on my shelf, from my mom. :-D


xo,
penelope

mind the gaps

I cannot even buh-lieve I didn’t keep you posted on the aftermath of J.Lo’s car after the accident a few weeks ago. I mean I guess it was anticlimactic, or at least relatively drama-free (thankyousomuchbabyjesus), and the accident causer’s insurance covered everything. And it’s all fixed and looks lovely again. All told it was $3300 in damage. But I’d like very much never to have one of those again, if at all possible.

Can I whine about my cold for a few minutes? Wonka wanted me to. It’s one of those horrible lingering ones, and I am only on day one and a half. *sob* J.Lo picked up a week and a half ago and still has it. K.Lo picked up what seemed to be a milder version and is feeling aiight. Only N.Lo remains unscathed. But thank goodness for Scooby-Doo library DVDs and a relatively quiet younger child, is all I’m saying.

Oh! and most importantly I loved your response. I’m still pondering it and yesterday my eye again caught the shadowbox you made for me and how the girl in it is reaching toward the light and here I’ll quote you back to you:

And upsprings from the broken bottle this epic figure. She alights herself upon the inkbottle at her foot and catches the bolt and fixes everything in the place it was seen hurdling from. But you see the antique autocar light isn't on, the latin inscription on the wine cork from which the light is hung is: 'let your light shine'... the internal you, never cease or stop, but continue on in this sparkling and vibrant way forever more. And it bears with the latin phrase "in omnia paratus": ready for anything/allthings...

Wicked awesome.

I’m all caught up on ProRun so let’s discuss. I sort of hate team challenges because I feel like every single designer is restrained from creating what they would normally create and while it’s obviously good to step out of one’s box or whatever, in these scenarios they are stunted by compromise rather than flourishing within a set of parameters. So it’s sort of a yawn-fest ultimately but I did love blonde chick’s dress and wouldn’t mind the black and white by Nathan either.

So now I need to, um, go tend to my cold. And children and dinner. Killme. But the dinner at least is pho, or something resembling it.

philosoraptor

…

I can tell I’m on the brink of an energy fizzle. This always happens when I get all uber ambitious and knock out a bunch of tasks in a short period of time and then wonder why I can’t be that way all the time. It would be so easy! And it keeps one energized, to be so energized! But then I never factor in downtime, or enough downtime, or underestimate its absolute necessariness and boom. So I get that you wouldn’t necessarily want to *be* a teacher because of the go-go-go requirement. We need to breathe. But maybe the teachers who need it find a way to breathe; surely they must?

Things accomplished today: Job application, sent. Church library wish list, transferred. Library troops, notified. Bed sheets, laundered and changed. Dinner, planned. Pool water, drained, refilled. Etc. Etc. And more.

I can also tell I’m about to crash when I feel overly optimistic in the midst of all that Doing. And wonder why I can’t be that way all the time. Doesn’t it come naturally! I think it does, but I also think pessimism comes just as naturally. It’s a battle of dark and light and when I am caught in the light I think I can stay there forever, why couldn’t I, why shouldn’t I. Is that a weak thought? The dark seems to see it that way, takes the moment of that thought as its cue to appear and extinguish all light.

Is a mix of light and dark at all times safer, or wiser? Can those levels be controlled? Should they? Shouldn’t they? Can I be any more abstract. I totally didn’t intend on spiraling down Philosophy Lane at the outset of this post and yet. I await your pondering response.

xo

weekendddd

Before I go to bed and forget it all, I supposed the weekend deserves a recap. Oh. The first thought that immediately and inexplicably came to mind was my Terribly Exhausting Dream last night in which I juggled several stressful situations: not being able to sleep, in the dream. Isn’t that the worst? Also, equally harrowing, a terrorist situation at some hotel? in which we stayed? And also, being commissioned to watch the neighbor’s dog and forgetting to feed it. Because all those things go together, absolutely.

Anyway, I was ridonk tired when I woke up, after all that. And went to Sunday school. Except no, I sent my children to Sunday school, thieved some breakfast specifically set out for Sunday school participants, and then hid in the library. My library, I mean. Bc I had to start cataloguing books, which is mercifully easier than it could be thanks to Steve Jobs and his cohorts. Thanks, Steve. There’s the not-so-small issue that many, too many, of the books lack bar codes and/or ISBN numbers, being so “ancient” as they are, but regardless, it’s all kept in a neat little system in the virtual ether, via a clever and free iPhone app.

Otherwise the weekend was blissfully lazy as intended. I mean other than that unwanted trip to Target for weed killer. We are apparently the only people on the block that do not tend to our ditch weeds. Which I normally don’t care much about – manicured what? pffft – but some odd copywriting job from yesteryear taught me all about stream flow and obstructions and I foresee that our ditch-jungle is potentially problematic in the scheme of things. 

Book club, in which None of Us Read the Book (I updated the FB event page to reflect this anomaly) was wicked fun in spite of the sushi place losing our reservation and then blatantly Not Caring about it. After nearly an hour of neglect we ditched it for the pizza place in the plaza next door. And incidentally we could actually hear each other there and the waitstaff didn’t radiate waves of surreptitious-arsenic-dispensing hatred, always a bonus.

Okay I’m totally going to sign out, m-style, and write more thoughts tomorrow. Like about meat – ah, good one. We all eat too much of it, don’t we. Anyway you do look amazing as ever, kg count aside. And I heart you.

xoxox

pen

the color of futility

I think it’s a very pale shade of green. Yesterday I helped paint the church basement again, and that sucker ain’t ever gonna be finished. Oh sure, it will get done eventually. I realize that. But when you have in your head 2-3 days and at the end of the first day you barely have a first coat on most – not even all! – surfaces, it feels Sisyphean. There is just so. much. area. to paint.

But at least it wasn’t quite as hot/stale/muggy as the first painting escapade, which translated to me not feeling quite so much like death.

And I shopped for children’s church library books today. I feel like we were successful? And that I might understand why there’s no big box bookstore in D-ville? Because everyone just goes to Goodwill. Seriously could have spent the day looking through their books. But after awhile and before that another new-used hole-in-the-wall store that will never survive if they charge everyone as little as they charged us, I was running on vapors and had to quit. Note to self: ALWAYS BRING ALMONDS.

Whatelse. School is going swimmingly for K.Lo. She’s been processing her school days behind a closed bedroom door, playing teacher for hours. Really. It’s the most awesomest thing ever. J.Lo has a nasty cold that he’s trying to pass on to me. I’m waving around bunches of garlic but I’m not sure it’s going to work. I'm also pseudo job hunting again, very specifically for online something or other, for the moment. And it always sends me into a deep spiral about my abilities and inabilities and back to that pale shade of green. But I’ll buoy myself out of it dammit, at least to send in an application or two. RIGHT?

Or something.

Those PBS montages are just epic. Thank you for insisting I watch them finally, as I noted their presence on pinterest awhile ago and told myself to click on them but never did. I can’t even decide which is my fave. Eating, imagination and art. I mean. Let’s just embrace all three shall we. THE STUFF OF LIFE.

Also who wouldn’t embrace a random independence day that is highly symbolic. And go you with your epic weight loss! Someday perhaps you’ll blog more about that. And what you think home will hold, after your sentence contract ends.

I suppose it’s bedtime but I’m feeling noncommittal. I’d really like to usurp – is that really a word and am I using it in the right context – control of the television so I can finally watch ProRun, but I’m allowing the sickie to do some Netflix movie streaming. Which leaves me and my marginally amusing book club read, which no one else in the group has had the time or energy to even start, so the motivation has sort of dissolved very quickly. But we’re meeting at a sushi place on Friday night, so I’m looking forward to that part. Just not the reading part. Maybe I’ll forage for a new book tonight, hmm.

Also, all of my clothes suck, being baggy, or old, or appropriately summery. Basically I am ready to wear jeans. But perhaps I’ll be both ambitious and lucky tomorrow in revamping an old shirt or two to fit correctly. and not hideously. or pale greenly, by which I mean metaphorically, not literally.

that is all. goodnight.

schrute interruption

so confusing.

oh the humanity

Aren’t we humans cute? It’s like that insurance commercial with the montage of stupid things human beings do in cars by virtue of our infallibility. It makes me laugh and sears my heart at the same time. Because it seems like we are collectively agreed that we aren’t, actually, imperfect. Or that over time humanity improves on its imperfection with, you know, its intelligence, its technology, its “knowing better” and its having learned from history. Which is simply another facet of that imperfection, the short-sightedness.

We are so hilarious!

Someone painted patches of our white church basement ceiling green earlier this week. Oops. And today I watched three men gouge two holes in the wall while moving, or rather lodging, a boxspring up a staircase. It was there for three. hours. Fabric was ripped, slats were broken. Heads hung in defeat. And then the landlord popped by and helped get it upstairs in two minutes flat. And then in the evening I mowed the lawn, and it’s been so long since I last mowed that section, and the grass is heavy and wet like the summer air, and I was so determined to Get It Done Right Then, the mower cut off from a clog for the first time all year. So J.Lo raised the wheels and I was on my way, until WHOOPS! ran over the culvert. Shredded the culvert. Completely foo-barred the mower blade till the machine rattled and shook and J.Lo waved his arms to STOP MOWING FOR GOD’S SAKE.

So my children will eventually wound themselves on the shredded culvert – it’s inevitable, no? even though the mangle has been somewhat pounded into place. And J.Lo’s out looking for a replacement blade (fast-forward to the next morning) and we are crossing our fingers the shaft isn’t foo-barred, too, because then we’ll need a whole new mower. Which ain’t in the monthly budget. And meanwhile, the lawn still is unmowed.

Also, I’ve been epically overscheduled. I think there’s eventually an end in sight? In theory? But for now we soldier on. I haven’t watched ProRun yet so no spoilers pleeease.

Saturday is Spiedie Fest. Wish me luck in all things. But mostly the mower situation over the cookoff.

love to you in jeju

pen

i feel like…

We both skipped a turn? Or something? But we’re also back in true form if we write anyway to check in belatedly, with promises to write more maybesometime…um.

WHOA with your meeting theme from above. Are you speaking with Volcanic yet? Is she there yet, will she ever be?

I have a slow-burn cold-hot ache across the middle of my back that just feels like sadness. Maybe some IcyHot? Does that cure all…

Today on a whim I decided to wrap Persephone’s earbuds a la a Pin I saw once and thought I pinned but apparently didn’t. Or I can’t find it on my boards, but that doesn’t mean anything. Except mine doesn’t look nearly as neat and lovely as it’s been at least a decade since my last friendship bracelet.

Also I have a meeting tonight for children’s council, which is going fine by the way, but I hate hearing myself talk, so I sort of have to power through that conundrum. Hm.

I made muffins… banana…

And I did laugh out loud at your pork and cockroach allergy. I mean… epic. Outside of a random Indiana Jones adventure, I don’t foresee many problems with the cockroaches, but have you sensed pork? And HOW are you not allergic to wheat, officially, after all your trials and tribulations with it? Do we trust this Korean assessment really, is what I’m asking. But I love that there’s still a ??? mystery allergy hovering out there. Ooo what could it be. (SG!) And allergic to dogs, however mildly – psshhh. I don’t know. I just don’t know.

The bookshelf is filled and is glorious.

I’m officially avoiding nosy-hag neighbor, who is simply going to have to fly on her own, little bird, fly fly. For my toxicity sensor is beeping wildly.

I ought to mow the lawn and refresh the hummingbird fare and water the plants. But it’s so wilt-y out there, whine.

And Bunheads is wearing on me with its lack of heart. Like it’s got the spunk, but…

anyway.

ttfn – totes – boom

penz

.

5th day

I haven’t traversed any mazes lately with a Girl Named Volcanic Repression, but I did spend all day Saturday painting the ceiling of a mildewy basement. And felt completely ill for it, since heat rises and it was soupy heat and anyway. I might have tumors now, or at least a substantial lung disease brewing. It was for church and it’s fine, but let’s just say I’m not in any hurry to go back until the ceiling is done, at least. (It’s a giant, giant room.) I totally (totes) hope you go back to the maze so you can experience it by yourself and also complete the women’s maze because hello – awesome. It sounded pretty epic in spite of the subsequent friend-drama.

A new phone has been procured, secured, and I have named it Persephone. And you totally (totes) would have been proud of me when I sicced my upstate NY accented tirade on the AppleCare rep re: his ridiculous plan to have me send back a lemony device and wait 10 days for a replacement. My speech was long and loud enough to pass whatever escalation test was required by the cellphone carrier so that they intervened and were like, yes, we’ll swap it out for you. Sweet. I feel like I maintained a perfect balance of carefully restrained venom and persecuted customer-ness.

Neighborly shenanigans, you ask? So the nosy one to the right of us, the one who feels sorry for herself as a regular theme of conversation, the one with a vindictive streak who chucked dog poo in our flower beds last year instead of discussing the issue first? That one. Her husband went to the hospital last week after a fall (not the first fall), and I let the dog out while they were gone, and now she’s back and her husband has been transferred to a nursing home. Which was a long time coming, we all know that. And now she’s has this huge life transition in her lap, like what to do with herself, how to create a new life, how to be alone. I get that. I really do. I listen to these words empathetically. At the same time, the invitation to join a water aerobics class together had to be politely declined.

This is the show I went to Friday night. And it was pretty rad! I mean I could have done without the Santa song and why did we go back to the Flagmaker in the 1700s? I’m not sure. But otherwise. I got it, and it was inspiring. It’s a tiny theater brimming over with talent and heart and I love it. Totally (totes) want to go back.

And currently, I’m sitting in awe next to this super-tall bookcase crafted by J.Lo and my dad that is now a cornerstone of our living room. I have to fill it this week, and also make a giant stack of books-to-be-sold-and/or-donated. Because I just don’t want to hold on to them all. I know. Who is speaking here. But it’s totally (totes) me, Penelope.

love to you on the island -

here we go -

Oh you’re so right. Yesterday was my turn, and I told myself the whole day, blog something dammit. And it was right there on my brain. But I was dealing with my iPhone, which has turned out to be a lemon – it’s okay, I’ve already cried about it. I’ve turned it on it’s head so that it’s something hilarious. (It only wakes up from sleep mode when it feels like it? And occasionally jumps to life and takes an empty screen shot of itself? HAHAHAHAHAHA.) (Sigh.) (Sob.) And I’m going to the store today to amend.

So anyway, there was a lot of googling and finger crossing and restoring and conversing with customer service and tech support all day and night.

I’m dying for you to download the latest of ProRun and watch it immediately. So we can discuss. Because – gah. Just watch it. I enjoyed the candy challenge somewhat, marveling at the swirly gummy shark pattern, shaking my head at the falling apart pseudo-macaroni dress (seriously? just because it’s called pina colada twizzler does not mean it translates to visually awesome) and rolling my eyes at the designers who still, after TEN YEARS of fandom, do not understand that that unconventional materials challenge is about creating a fabric-esque illusion. And then sewing it into something bad-ass. You can’t just grab any existing material you see in whatever candy store or trash heap you’re thrown into and pretend that has anything to do with the price of eggs. Or, more horribly, take the challenge so literally as to craft a candy shop worker’s apron. What. Ugh.

I have some favorites so far – I like Ven’s designs, even if his personality’s sort of fuddy-duddy. I like the chick with the blue hair. I want to like Rooney Mara and probably would if she didn’t crumble under pressure and turn out things that are clearly way less than her best. And what about the crafty-kitschy lalala weeeeee! guy? Last night he said – without giving away anything major – something like, I just feel sad. And when I feel sad, I cannot work. I want to feel happeee. I think I love his spirit but ultimately raise my eyebrows at his design and craftsmanship.

Anyway… summer break is winding down. Mercifully. I mull my photographical and blogging hiatus – what has that been all about? Or maybe I should just not ponder and get on with it. Because picture-taking is ultimately this solid way of practicing gratitude for the beautiful things in my life…

I flippin’ love your maze pictures. I want to know more about that. And though we haven’t been blogging, let’s at least note we’ve been e-chatting regularly. So the disconnect is strictly limited to blogging. (Well and long emailing.) But we do need to remember that our letters to each other contain their own unique value not worth dismissing. Maybe our August sentence will be bring us back to that place where we know it.

Also, I laughed out loud at your appeal to – if only! – reach that place of contentment a la Peter Gibbons (yeah I had to IMDb that), sifting through the smoldering ruins of Initech. Ahahaha… Indeed.

xoxoxox

pen

Pen-

august updates (photos enclosed):
here's the happy dancing kingdomtide necklaces. this is the last day before the week and the new first day.

see how awesome color attracts color. it makes one happy.
kerry and i hitting the kogi truck. which is one of the popular trucks in all the food fuss of onthego eateries. it is as good as they say, and having tried at least 5 other trucks this really is the best. this random guy david overheard our conversation and lack of $2 and bought us a taco bcs he didn't want us to have to share a taco. he totally gets the nice guy award.

then on friday here i am downtown getting fabric for the quilt and picking nothing flashy or silk but basic %100 cotton. sometimes you just have to have practical.

sarah and i trying out a new beach in ventura. small pebbly swath of sand. it was a success though we wish it'd been warmer. and we ARE fabulous despite pickle debacles and yes, ive learned my lesson if she asks if she should reapply even though its cool and there's a breeze the answer is YES. she does not have my spanish skin. no, no she does not. i really had a lovely relaxing afternoon. and some natural aloe applications proved entertaining and genius in its photo opps. after that we settled into a bizarre little claymation flick out of belgium to cap a really brilliant day off with a cherry. ah, humid august sky. i never get to see this many clouds. no really it IS a treat to see clouds. you have no idea.

all my love,

m.