the traditional Monterey momma/daughter trip

Momma & Daughter

A hole in the wall boutique
Pampering galore
Darling resting and eatting choices Don't forget the coffee...or bottled water!
Some of the greatest unique things for the home
Always time for a cold brew
Have your palm read?
And yet another darling place to spend our money

These were some of the creative signs along the way, I found them fascinating! A true testament to the owners inside. I encourage you to go to Monterey California if it fits into your budget. Clam Chowder in a bread bowl is a must, (however us gluten free girls have to settle for steamed clams) And this, of course, must be eaten on The Wharf. This year we had a fabulous spa day and definitely did more shopping than usual. Another year gone by, more matching rings for our fingers and precious memories made together :)

the gift

give me a gift of black and white
be honest
speak with kindness
let me help
just say no
keep things simple
believe in me
don't give up
read the directions first
let me sleep
eat breakfast
lunch and dinner
be patient
read the ingredients first
drive the speed limit
keep a budget
say thank you
and please
try to remember

give me a gift in full color
laugh out loud
plan a surprise
stay up late
plant flowers
use all the crayons
decorate the envelopes
start new traditions
compliment strangers
give money and time
keep dreaming
sing and dance
eat chocolate
open the sun roof
go a different way
take pictures
see a play
keep smiling

These lists are incomplete, but I 'm sure that you could add a thing or two. If you can believe it, I am still organizing my art room, but I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I am now ready to unload the boxes that I had to fill in order to begin. And I'm feeling less pain when something has to go and using more wisdom about what is to stay.

The state of this room has definitely been a mirror of how I feel inside. Seeing the order, balance and organization has been so rewarding and healthy. I think I'm going to make it after all :)

Local Boy Beats the Odds

This boy is doing so well, I beam when he is around. Full time school, 30 hour work week and seriously excited about being in the medical field. Now he is leaning towards nursing, rather than respiratory therapy. His face lights up when you ask him about school and he never complains about the physical setbacks that interfere with his life. I just came across a few cards that were sent to me during his hospital stay and re cried some thankful tears. Many of us make lemonade with our lemons, but somehow Mark has made fine wine with his :)
I never did mention my mini crush on this awesome young man and his adorable mother. I think I held my breath for every race and cried like a proud mom. He reminded me of Mark, who is also getting gold...stars that is!

lupus in the artists room

After the boxes were filled...
After dismantling the old desk and bringing in the new smaller one...
After everything had been quickly grabbed and placed into the right category...

...that's when the damn broke.

I sat at the shiny, brand new, unused desk and burst into a heap of tears.

What was I crying for?
Why did this feel so painful?
Where were my emotions going with all of this?

then I remembered the voices.

Every time I picked something up, it spoke to me, "I am important because...I am a good memory from some place and time...I represent a new change...blah blah blah." Each thing in this room held a tangible reason for being there. Every project I started and everything that went along with it was my attempt at keeping myself busy. My effort from going crazy about being chronically sick. My escape from the reality of the physical pain that was constantly nagging at my brain. "Hey, I'm here and I'm really powerful, so stop ignoring me!" The things in this room...my stuff, held my attention long enough so that the bully would stop yelling at me and now it was all in these boxes waiting to be put in their new rightful places.

It was all very overwhelming, so I cried these big long tears that came from...God knows where?

Therapy...this room was my place of therapy and I let it get out of hand, way out of control. I mean, the kind of mess where you have to make paths here and there to get to anything and only you know where everything is. I stopped being able to clean up after myself. I became so sick that I could just about get some project, into my lap and then didn't have the energy, or the strength to put it all away......and that's how it all starts. And before you know it, everyone in the house keeps that door closed because it looks like a hurricane hit it. It looks like the person who owns that room is sick & crazy...

...and that is just how I felt inside.

So now, the painstaking part is over and my "things" are waiting for me to put them in the most useful places. Oh, I'm still crying...the pain is still being felt...but the room already feels lighter, the stuff around me sounds different...

...as if their cries of recognition have turned from desperation...to gratitude.