Aww Shoot!

I don’t mean that like “awww” as in “darnit” I mean it as in “yyeeahh boyyy” like Flava Flav.

Why?

Remember when I did my winter sowing, but I started them late and was about 50/50 on whether the seeds would sprout?

Please imagine me dropping it like it’s hot, followed by backing it up, followed by a high-quality rendition of the sprinkler. I may have started dancing right on the gravel when I looked in and saw these sprouts.

I may or may  not have also screamed a little bit, high-fived myself and felt extremely accomplished. Despite the fact that mother nature did all of the work.

I’ve only had to water these twice so far. Twice! That’s it!

Oh, and in order the sprouts are spinach, tomatoes and rainbow chard.

On the way to date night last night Mr. A asked me why I started chard by reminding me it’s super easy to direct sow into the soil in May and you have chard within a month or so. I informed him it means we can now have chard earlier…and because I can. Okay, I have to admit it likely wasn’t the best thing to start but I do not regret it one bit. I love chard, and the earlier I can have the better.

On another note, remember when last week one of the trees in our yard looked like this:

One week later it now looks like this:

Mother Nature is getting her swagger on. And while mother nature continues to get her swagger on, I will go back to my sewing machine and snuggle into the couch on this rainy cool day with a hot cup of tea. Chamomile Vanilla to be exact.

xo,

Heather

I Run

I am not in any shape, form, or false belief a natural long distance runner. But I’ve always wanted to be. There’s something incredibly freeing about running, pushing yourself to the limits and boosting your confidence when you realize you can do something you couldn’t even do a few weeks ago.

Despite having roughed up ankles from dancing and reconstructions (plural, on each foot) and being told I would never be able to run,

I have.

I am.

And I love it.

I’ve run on and off for a number of years, especially these last few years. When I’ve been unemployed, I’ve started running again. When I get to the point I feel disgusting or I just need freedom, I start running again. That said, I always stopped. Life happened, and I stopped.

Until recently.

Have you ever had those times when something happens, and you decide at that point in your life there’s no looking back?

Andy’s cousin, who is 24 years old, beat cancer last year. A month or so ago she asked if the women on my husbands side of the family wanted to run a 5k in June. I was petrified but I knew I had to do it. If she could beat cancer, I could train my body to run three miles without stopping. This time around there was a motivation, a dedication and a determination. It started being for her, and it’s ended up changing me. For years it’s been on my bucket list to run a 5k before I turn 30, and that leaves this summer and next summer.

I want this. And I will do it.

So over the last few weeks I’ve been running, a lot. No matter what needs to get done after work, I go running a  few times a week. I’m happier. My dogs are happier, I feel better in general and I’m eating better. When I have the choice to go shopping after work or run—I run. I sweat endorphins, not money.

This time it doesn’t just feel like something to do. It feels like something I am going to become.

And last night, this is a big one for me, I ran my furthest distance and my fastest time. For me, this is huge, even though compared to others it’s not. But here’s the deal— I refuse to compare myself to others, because then it won’t feel so huge—and it is.

I breezed home last night with the biggest smile on my face with sweat heavy on my back.

So despite four ankle reconstructions, a bad back and doctors telling me I would never run.

I am.

Everytime I look at my shoes it makes me feel like freedom and confidence are only a step away. They are my my confidants, my stress relievers, my motivators, my push myself to places I never thought I could go, my feel the wind in my face and the sweat on my body, my “I can do anything”.

The truth is, everyone has to start somewhere and if you don’t take the first step, you’ll never take your second.

xo,

Heather

I’m Buying A Yurt

I have an announcement to make.

I’m going to live in a yurt until my house is done.

It’s become apparent to me that I cannot handle renovations – and renovations haven’t even begun. After patiently waiting over four years for renovations to start, Andy informed me this morning we have an ETA of May 1st for the start of the addition. Immediately I felt dizzy and sweaty, and not because it’s 75 and I’m wearing a long sleeve sweater.

I don’t know how to explain that I have utter and total faith in my husband, and I can’t wait to see how our new house will look—I’ve been dreaming of it—but  I utterly hate moving and change and although we’re going nowhere literally I feel like this is a huge huge move. I’m not scared of run-on sentences however. Due to this hate of change, any time something might happen that was not within my realm of possibilities in my head my reflex is to say “no! I don’t like that” or “no! I can’t” or “no! I don’t want to”. If it might mean big change, and I hadn’t had seven thousand years to mull it over, I will say no. I have this “glue strip” in my head. It means I get an idea in there and if that doesn’t happen it’s like pulling a bandaid from a fresh wound. It just hurts. I am aware I do this though, so I have to make a conscious effort not to think of anything in definite terms.

Most of the time.

So I am beginning to understand why my husband is always hesitant to talk to me about the house and why when I start asking questions he tends to stop talking to me about it. He does this for a living, I on the other hand, do not. I have no idea what is about to happen in my life.

And I don’t like it.

I like knowing what’s happening.

And when it’s happening.

And how it’s happening.

And I am a self admitted control freak.

And I do not like it.

And I try not to be.

And I think me asking so many questions comes off as me questioning my husbands talent, and his capabilities and his ability to make me a house I will drool over. I’m pretty sure this frustrates both of us because this is not what my intentions are. My intentions are to try and be reassured so I can have some grasp of some sort of semblance of what’s about to happen to me.

This must be one of those things that’s a lot scarier to think about than it is once you do it.

So that, is why I’m moving into a yurt for the summer….and why I write this blog. So I can get my stress out without being overwhelmed and snappy. I think it’s best for everyone if I just let my super talented husband build our house and I stay out of it. It might be the only way to come out with my sanity and marriage in tact on the other side.

Until it comes to my kitchen.

Then I’ll be back. Because I mean, it’s my kitchen.

Uhg. You know what, just let me pick out the appliances and then I’ll go back to my yurt for the winter.

Someone get me a wood stove.

xo,

Heather

photo from here

The Dog Days of March

Can I get a holy hallelujah high-five for the fact it was 70 degrees today? This is huge. Last year it was cold until June. As you can imagine much of the day was spent outside and my nose freckles, or dirt smudge as I call them, have started their migration to the surface of my skin. I wear sunscreen every day but somehow they still come out—mysteries. Another mystery is how towels dried outside smell so darn good all of the time.

Besides having plenty of vitamin D soak into my skin today and warm my bones up, I took the dogs out into the field to play while Andy worked on my car.

He originally was going to replace my thermostat since I’ve had no heat almost all winter in my car…then he found out I have an exhaust leak…then he found out I have a leak in my header gasket. Which is very bad news, but if anyone can fix it without it costing a fortune it’s the hubs-a-baloo. Total faith & trust.

Now I could have made this post about fixing the car but I can’t bear to show photos of oil mixed with water because I’m trying to ignore the fact that it seems I wasn’t too far off from experiencing white smoke rolling out from under my hood. Cross your fingers it can be fixed. A new car is not in the plan. At least, it’s not in our plan. It might be in God’s plan. It’s often the case that our plans coincide, but every now and again a loop is thrown in there just to remind me I’m not in charge.

Winnie & Primrose however had total faith and trust in playing ball and a cold muddy puddle to keep them cool. I maintain the following photo proves that dogs can smile. Just look at Winnie’s face.

That, my friends, is a happy dog. Primrose also looks like she’s jovial most of the time. I’m not sure a better word describes her.

When Winnie is interested in what you’re doing and wants it, she gives you this face. I could have been holding a ball, or bacon. You have to build up a tolerance to those big round “please” lab eyes.

When Winnie gets serious about play, (she is a bred hunting dog after all) she lowers her entire body to the ground and stares at you, ready to run at top speed at a moments notice.

And Primrose? Well, she’s just cute. Don’t let her fool you though, she will attempt to steal anything Winnie is playing with by running full tackle into her—and then promptly drops whatever it was about 6 feet from you…

…and stares at you. Now, she knows how to bring it right to you. But she won’t 8 out of 10 times. I have yet to figure out why, but sometimes she gets this huge grin on her face and then hops around a little and then play-bows.

I’m pretty sure she’s intentionally messing with me.

I love these two clowns.

Time to wake these two up from their naps and go spray all that mud off.

xo,

Heather

Pinterest Challenge Winter 2012

I’m a little late on the uptake here for the latest Pinterest Challenge, because if you’ve been following me you know what I’ve been working on.

The damn crocheted rug.You can see the last update I did, and how I’m making my flowers here.

As always, here’s a video update, done in one take and slightly punch drunk. Not literally. Also I shouldn’t say the word “drunk” and “punch” on St. Patrick’s day. I feel like it’s just a bad omen. I am in no way Irish, and I don’t celebrate getting drunk at 10am, but I did have a PBR earlier this evening—so that must count for something. Also my hair is a hot mess and my lipstick is wearing off. I checked neither of these in the mirror first. I’m a winner. If you can’t watch the video right now, just scroll below and I’ll give you the rundown.

The Rundown:

I now know why hand crocheted rugs go for $800 dollars. They are a pain in the bleep noise to make.

The reason for this update is to say I am proud to announce that I am finally assembling the rug. Well, I’m partially assembling it. You know, the part I have done. I couldn’t stare at a pile of flowers anymore, I had to start putting it together. And, as mentioned it’s hard to visualize in the video so here are some photos of it so far.

Can I just tell you that this is the cushiest most comfortable thing I’ve ever felt under my feet?

Secrets out, I have webbed toes on either foot, known as syndactyly, and ugly feet from dancing and ankle surgeries.

To answer a few questions:

  • No it doesn’t feel weird. I have no idea what would feel different.
  • I once threatened a doctor with medical malpractice if he cut them apart while he did one of my ankle reconstructions. He was joking around, but I was dead serious.
  • I can make an awesome duck noise, but I cannot swim better. I wish. I’d take that shiz all the way to the olympics if I could.
  • I’m pretty fond of my syndactyly because my Memere had the same exact thing, and we’re the only two in the family who have it to this degree. I’m hoping this does not also mean that I will have four wild boys like her (only I kind of hope it does).
  • Yes, I desperately need to repaint my toenails. They are currently silver, not dirty.
  • My feet are ugly and my joints look weird with pressure on my feet..so 99% of the time. I am aware of this and am okay with it.

Way off track.

To get BACK on track, the rug is partially done, and this makes me happy and gives me more motivation to get back to crocheting a bunch more and adding them on as I go.

So maybe by 2050 I’ll have this rug to put my ugly feet on.

In the mean time, check out the other ladies of the Pinterest Challenge 2012 Winter Edition.

xo,

Heather