Post Vacation Funk

Near Scott Creek, Olympic National Park, Washington

It has hit me again as usual.

I want to go back. It's not that I need to go back to this physical place. I miss that the concerns that plagued my mind were actually relevant. I concerned myself with the quality of our drinking water, making sure we got back to camp before high tide returned, keeping raccoons away from camp at night, and hoping that rain would stay away for our trek back out. There wasn't anything I truly found myself wanting, except to wash my smelly feet.

The Monday our mail returned there was a J. Crew and REI catalog waiting for me. I sat in my living room feeling overwhelmed by the possessions that surrounded me. I exposed myself to the internet for the first time in over a week. Now four days later I feel like an anxious mess as I think about all of the house projects that need to be completed, and all of the "things" that will need to be purchased to make the rooms complete and organized. I don't feel any clarity here. I feel like I can't focus on more important issues when my own environment is a mess.

I want to move, in more ways than one. (And no, I don't want to move to Washington. I am not so naive as to believe that moving there would make my life better.)

Coast to Coaster

I had a beautiful Reader's Digest World Atlas from the 1960's. It's mostly torn apart now because the maps inside of it are so gorgeous. I've made a pencil holder out of a map of Hawaii and I'm planning to frame the map of Antarctica. I've used Japan for wrapping paper and other pages for a collage. I knew that I wanted to use more of the maps, but I just wasn't sure how.

The coasters that we had before were cheap lightweight plastic. They would always stick to the bottom of our everyone's beverages and then the coaster would fall to the surface beneath it. It was so annoying and startling! I had a couple of instructions to coasters stashed on my diy list. I bought tiles on clearance from Menards a couple of months ago for 12-22 cents each. With the temperatures rising and our drinks dripping with condensation, now was the time to complete the task.







If I were to do the project again, which I will probably do since I have more tiles, I would cut the cork to only cover the bottom grid part of the tiles. I really like these coasters though. They're so much more functional and prettier than what we used before. Maps make me happy. A happy wife is a happy home. :)

I referenced this article and this article to make these. They're really easy to make, you just need time inbetween the coats of Mod Podge and Acrylic Sealer.

it's wearing the same beads from six years ago, when you asked me to hold your hand.
it's listening to the same sad songs, thinking it will help me cope(land).
it's you still fighting,
fighting,
fighting.
(will it ever end?)

(what's the use in good news when the bad news just tears it shreds?)
(what good is the sun when the clouds make its rays impassable?)

Yo-yo-ing

The original plan was to chop off my hair into a cute (blonde) bob for the summer.

Then I realized that my hair is getting long and my shampoo bar and tea rinse is making it much more managable and pretty. Long hair flowing in the summer wind was sounding really appealing.

However, 80+ degrees with humidity is not the most bearable of conditions to be blow drying long, frizzy hair in.

I should probably just go for it.
Right now I see a photo in my mind. I have a cute, blonde bob and I am wearing my mom's fur coat, in the desert.

It doesn't happen to you, you happen to life.

In school were you ever told by your teachers that there's no such thing as a stupid question? That there's no such thing as a wrong question?

I think people ask the wrong questions all the time.



What is my purpose in life? What is the meaning of life?
Instead shouldn't one ask

How can I live on purpose? How can I bring meaning to life?

I feel as though the first set of questions don't require personal action. Haven't there been people asking those same questions for centuries? Why even ask "What is my purpose in life?" I am certain that we're alive for more than one reason! Why sell ourselves short like that?

The second set of questions requires something of us. Could it be that we are responsible for our own lives? Imagine that!

I suppose you could spend your whole life hunkered down, asking again and again what your purpose is, and come to the end of your life realizing that your life never did have much purpose because you never chose to give it purpose.

Or you can spend each day asking how you can live it to the fullest, trusting that God, the beginning and the end, already has your life in His hands, and by living on purpose your life will have purpose.

I'll let you think about it and get back to me. I'm going to bed.