No biggie, just a slight breakdown

School is out for summer and I'm having a bit of a breakdown because now I have a senior and a middle schooler and I'm just not emotionally prepared for either of those scenarios even though I knew this day would come eventually -- I have a very specific memory of when we found out we were pregnant with Johanna and we were laughing about "sixth grade and kindergarten. No wait, sixth grande and SENIOR!" -- and it just seemed so far out into the future, but here we are and you know what?

I so love my older kids, and I'm so happy with where our family is, but I would give (almost, let's not get too crazy) anything to go back and visit my goofy girls when they were, say, 8 and 2.

But I can't. And I really need to get my shit together and just accept that life is changing and it's okay, they're excited about this next chapter and I should be too.

I am not excited.

I will get excited.

Right after I cry a little more.

Metaphorically speaking. I'm not a cryer. I like to do my sobbing on the inside, it's just cleaner.


Real posts over at The Simple Year.

I'm not convinced this day really exists...

And so it begins. Again.

Lent began on Wednesday.

Seriously, didn't we just do this? It's kind of alarming that I'm at that stage in life where yesterday and last year are pretty much the same thing. Actually, even 10 years doesn't seem like that long ago.

I'm not sure where that leaves us.

Much like in years' past, I'm giving up processed foods,* but this year I'm going for extra holy, so I'm also adding another element to this whole ordeal: I'm giving up buying anything, too.** I don't actually buy that much, 'cause minimalism, yo, but I do rather enjoy coffees and the occasional lunch (and dinner) out on the town.

It's just too easy to walk down the street and pick up a sandwich.

I see these two things as extensions of each other: If I'm not eating processed food, that means most restaurant eating is out, and if I'm not buying anything, that means, like, no food treats at the grocery store.

So why am I doing this?

Well, mainly because I want it to be hard. I want to have to think about what I'm doing, and therefore be thinking about the purpose of Lent. I want to have to struggle a little bit. I want to see how strong I am. Or maybe how weak.

And I guess, too, there's the whole question of why I'm sharing this. Because the point isn't to go bleating about it to everyone so they know what you're doing -- you're supposed to, you know, act like nothing is even going on from the outside. I find, though, that sharing helps me with accountability. Because even though you'd think the fires of hell would be enough (kidding), the spirit is weak.

Seriously weak.

So that's what I'll be up to for the next 40 plus days (you're allowed to take Sundays off, but Eric and I like to just plow on through ... it's kind of easier with no cheat days, if that makes any sense).

* Before you even ask, no, this is NOT Whole 30. I'm not even 100 percent sure what that actually means. My definition of unprocessed equals four or less ingredients, although that's not a hard and fast rule (Fritos have three ingredients, and you can't tell me THAT stuff isn't processed). I will be consuming dairy because coffee just really is better with milk. I have no qualms with sugar, either. But I won't be consuming any prepackaged cereal, or chips, or crackers, or anything good, really. (Good-bye, Annie's Cheddar Bunnies. I'll miss you!)

** For obvious reasons, this does not include groceries. 'Cause we kind of need to eat. And my kids and husband aren't on this train, just me.

Random thoughts with a side of I Have A Dream House

Devils Lake, Lincoln City, Ore.

This past weekend was the Walker family Christmas House weekend, more accurately called the I Have A Dream House because we hold it over MLK weekend, not Christmas (not that any of us will ever call it anything besides the Christmas House). Anyway, I was talking to my favorite mother-in-law over ... breakfast? Maybe dinner, and she was all like, I'm sorry you're not doing your pointless rambles any more, and I was all, No, I am, but then it occurred to me that maybe I'm not.

Which made me a little bit sad, honestly, because I love writing pointless ramble.

It's not that I'm not writing, though, so much as my priorities have shifted. When I started the blog, I was working 20 hours a week and was looking for an excuse to use up some words. Now I'm up to 32 to 35 hours a week, we're knee-deep in basketball season for both girls, and I tend to gravitate towards my journals rather than the computer.

'Cause I can't always get on the computer. Well, school work and all. It's kind of hard to toss your fifth grader off the computer when she needs to do Splash Math.

Hey, irony: Johanna is lurking because she needs the computer to do homework. What do kids do if they don't have a computer at home? I have no idea.

All this is to say that I have no plans to actually give up the blog; I just might not be posting as much as I used to.

So... I'm going to let Johanna use the computer now, and I will come back soon to tell you how I packed for our three-day weekend (spoiler alert: I overpacked, although it didn't feel like it at the time I was throwing clothing into my bag).

We're cool, right?

A look back at 2015

As seen on a recent walk around town.

Christmas is over, New Year's is just around the corner, and I am trying to make sense of what the hell even happened in 2015. I was talking with Abby on Sunday, and said I knew this year would be hard, but I didn't expect it to be this hard. She said that we just thought it would be hard in different ways and that's why it seemed to be overly difficult.

My kid is so smart.

Well, whatever. This year seemed to be the best of times and the worst of times, but I think that's pretty much how it is every year. You can't have the sweet without the sour. Or something. I think I read that once. I think I'd much rather have all sweet, though, thankyouverymuch. The sour sucks.

Anyway, as I sit here and think about the past (almost) 365 days, these are the things that stand out for me. I'm trying to be all zen and like, there is no good nor bad, it's just our perceptions, except right now zen is alluding me so you get this:

The Good

1. Our trips to California and Sunriver were amazing.
2. I got farther in my zero waste journey.
3. I continued to be a minimalist. And a damn good one. ;)
4. I discovered the joy that is art journaling.
5. I learned I tend to be self-destructive, which may seem bad, but that revelation has been a real eye-opener for me. It helps me stay on track.
6. My husband is darling in so many ways. We celebrated our 20th anniversary!
7. My girls are smart and make parenting extremely easy.
8. Let's not leave out Skilly. He's the best. Well... mostly.
9. I loved my year in the newsroom -- every single minute of it. That's not to say that sometimes I don't want to ram my head through a wall, because frustrations are normal and they happen, but you guys! I get to read and write all day long! That doesn't even seem like working.
10. I started acupuncture and reflexology, and that has made a big difference in my overall health and mental well-being.
11. I embraced the light. Sometimes I had more success than other times.
12. My hair is finally its natural color -- from root to end!

The Bad

1. We lost Eric's cousin Aaron and my grandfather. We found out that Uncle Bob's cancer has spread to his spine and blood. We learned that sweet Celia, our friend and hairdresser, has cancer and there's nothing that can be done about that. We also lost our kind neighbor and friend, Tom.
2. Just so many funerals.

The Ugly

1. I fought anxiety a lot this year. I did allergy elimination through my acupuncturist, and I think with that and my monthly reflexology appointments (just for relaxation), I'm better overall. I still have some general and social anxiety, which can be a pain, but I also have tools to get myself through it.
2. Accepting that my grandparents are getting older.
3. Grieving. Grieving is so super hard, you guys.
4. Just getting through December. But I did it.

You know what, 2015? Thank you for the opportunities, and the good times, and the lessons learned from all the rest. Here's to a more peaceful 2016.

In which I decided to just tune out

These penguins are not worried about staying abreast of the latest news.
P.S. Our neighbors have Christmas spirit to spare.

This week, I've been intentionally not turning on my television.

Ned's Atomic Dustbin would be so proud of me!*

It's not so much that I watch a lot of television and need to curb the habit (I think TV is super boring), but I am known to flip on the news most nights. I like to know what is going on in the world and in my own backyard and get the weather report and stuff and things.

But lately... it's just been dragging me down. All of it. I have enough trouble during this time of the year staving off depression without help from the outside.

And then I read a little blog post called "The Life-Changing Magic of Intentional Ignorance." This in particular stood out for me:

"Sometimes intentional ignorance is the best choice you can make for yourself." -- Sarah VonBargen

And I was like, that is amazing!

Seriously, what a novel thought: You don't have to watch the news (ironic, since I'm The Media), or open all of your email, or read every blog post by every blogger you follow. It's okay to just turn it all off and go do something else.

For me, that something else has been a lot of journaling (both art and written), and trying to sort through the year that was 2015 and think about what I'd like 2016 to look like. It's been rather enjoyable.

I'm still getting the news -- I mean, it's kind of hard NOT to when you write for a newspaper -- but moderation seems to be the key to my overall sanity.

I think I'm on to something with this intentional ignorance thing...

*Boy, talk about a blast from the past. I loved this song in college.

Minimalist (or maybe just lazy) meal planning

"So you see, children, your mother is more than happy
to wait on us all and does not feel imposed upon in any way!"

I don't have many good ideas, but sometimes I am rather a genius. Sundays have become my "Cook All The Meals!" days, and while this means that I don't always have time to take a nap like God intended (day of rest? anyone? no?), it also means that I don't have to worry about feeding the fam when I come home famished and exhausted from work during the week. 

I actually stole this idea from Abby's friends' mom (friends plural because they're twins. Abby is actually the triplet in this scenario, now that I think about it), who casually mentioned one day that she makes three different meals every Sunday so she and her girls can eat a nice dinner no matter what their schedules are like, and I was all, that is BRILLIANT.

Because if you're already messing up your kitchen, you may as well go big.

I'm not really a menu planner, so I just ask Eric and the girls what they want to eat for the week. If they each give me one idea, that week is taken care of. If they don't, that's cool because coming up with one idea is way easier than coming up with multiple ideas.

So far I've been gravitating towards the casserole-esque -- turkey pot pie, lasagna -- and the soup -- pozole and taco. This Sunday I branched out and made hamburger patties (uh, that was almost too easy) and teriyaki chicken. But really, I'm willing to try just about anything. I heard that if you can find it in the freezer case at the supermarket, you can make it and freeze it yourself, so I guess I'm putting that theory to the test.

My other motivation for doing this, aside from the fact that not having to think about dinner six days in a row is the greatest gift I've ever given myself, is that the week of Christmas is going to be insane in the membrane, so if I have a nice stockpile, I can feed everyone WITHOUT EVEN TRYING.

I told you I'm a genius. Even if I have to rip off my good ideas.

Hey, it's occurred to me that you're wondering about side dishes. Well, let me tell you about this beautiful thing called salad. You make it and then you let people pick at it all week! And when that runs out about Thursday, you just start cutting up apples and calling it a day.

We just want people fed, right? It doesn't have to be pretty. ;)

Holiday resolutions

See how Santa is already burned out? METAPHOR.

I follow quite a few simplicity blogs (which you have to admit is kind of ironic because how hard can simplicity be?), and over at The Simple Year a couple weeks back, Tracy posted this:

Today it occurred to me that New Year’s resolutions are improperly timed. Resolutions are more necessary at this time of year. Then, when the new year arrives, you didn’t eat too much or spend too much or drink too much.

You know what, Tracy? Word up.

And, then, like the Universe was actually trying to teach me something, I read THIS from Courtney Carver at Be More With Less:

Things build up day after day, week after week, and month after month. A new year offers hope for a clean slate, but we sometimes forget about the opportunity of a new day. Why do we have to wait for January 1st for a fresh start?

(You should actually read this entire post, which is entitled "Create the Promise of a New Day with a Clean Slate." Go ahead, I'll wait...)

Reading Tracy's post inspired me to make my own holiday resolution list, and Courtney's reminded me that every single day is an opportunity to start over, no matter what has happened the day before. My mother likes to say that we choose to have a happy heart; why can't we choose a daily clean slate?

The holidays are, traditionally, kind of a rough time for me. My introverted, minimalist heart does not like all the commotion and chaos and advertisements telling me I need to buy this or spend this much so the people I love know that I love them. Add to that the sadness I feel this year after losing my grandpa (you guys, how can he be gone? I still can't wrap my mind around that, even after six months), and... let's just say I don't really look forward to December at all.

Which is kind of a dismal way to look at what is supposed to be a magical month.

So I took this whole notion of holiday resolutions very seriously is what I'm saying. What did I want out of this month? This holiday season? From myself?

Not the complete list, but here are some of the (better, perhaps overly optimistic) intentions I came up with:

1. To survive. I don't have to get through this ordeal prettily; I just need to get through. Pressure off!

2. To remember that this time with my family is a gift. It's easy for me to forget that I love these people more than anything in the world. Abby is already a junior in high school; Johanna turns 11 in just a couple of weeks. Eric is the rock on which my world is built. We're in the golden era of our family. This is the time to enjoy it.

3. Is this XYZ self-destructive? If it is (staying up too late, eating that eighth cookie, forgetting to introvert, not exercising, forgetting to be kind), then I will NOT DO THAT THING. (This is actually a new life resolution, now that I think about it.)

4. It's okay to feel sad and miss my loved ones. I'm not likely to forget that we lost Gramps this year, and I always miss my Grammie M something terrible this season too. Oh, and the anniversary of my miscarriage is Dec. 6, and Grandpa M's death Dec. 12. I will remember them, I will send them my love and hold them in my heart, and I will be sad when I am sad -- and happy when I am happy. Hey, it goes both ways.

5. It's okay to be frustrated but it's NOT okay to be a jerk. Yeah. I'm not actually all that great of a person to be around sometimes. But there's no reason to lash out when I find I'm not surviving, remembering to enjoy time with Eric and the girls, feeling self-destructive and sad and overwhelmed. I can choose to have a happy heart and make my Mommy proud! ;)

BONUS RESOUTION:

6. Take all the naps! (I think that's pretty self-explanitory.)

...And if I fail at any of these (and, let's face it, I will), I can start over the next day! Or even that next minute. (Courtney is a genius.)

Besides keeping these resolutions in mind, I'm also making time for a couple of other activities that are just good for my soul: Courtney's 31 Gifts You So Deserve (can you tell I'm a big fan of this woman?) and Bishop Robert Barron's Advent Reflections. Both are delivered via email each morning; I try to read them when the house is quiet, but if the world is against me, I wait until lunchtime. I've been making journal pages based on Courtney's gifts (it's not too late to sign up, by the way... there's a nominal fee, but it's totally worth it), which has been both a great way to not only appreciate them, but be creative, present in the moment, and open to the magic of the season. The same goes for Bishop Barron -- I copy passages that resonate with me so I can look back and be reminded of what Advent is about, not just in December, but always.

My journal is getting quite the workout these days, actually. It is AWESOME.

So that's the roadmap I'm following this month. I am hopeful that this will be a peaceful December in my heart and soul because of it.

What would make your holiday resolutions list?

Mostly just a whole lot of nothing

All right, you guys, I'm back. I think. My stomach and I are friends again, our household has re-established its routine (I dearly love routines) since Eric came home from his hunting trip, and I've actually got a bunch of post ideas.

It's just sitting down to write that's the trick. ;)

ALSO. I went in for an eye exam and am happy to report I have new glasses! They're just for reading (so it's super weird to look up quickly and try to see something across the room) because it was either that or bifocals, and I was like, come on, Doc, I'm only 43! I don't think I'm emotionally stable enough to handle bifocals before 50.

Although I might not have a choice for much longer.

See?!

Well, details are boring. I am excited about the readers because, aside from being navy blue and pretty kick ass (Johanna says they make me look like a receptionist or a librarian), I can SEE: the small letters on my phone when I send a text, the page when I read, the details I've been missing. It's amazing! Just don't look up, as I have already established...

Since this post has dissolved into a whole lot of nothing, let me tell you this little story from Thursday: Johanna has been telling me all week that we had a parent-teacher conference on Thursday at 7:30 p.m. So on Thursday, quite dutifully, the two of us set out with 10 minutes to spare and found ourselves outside the teacher's shut door in no time at all, mainly because we literally live three minutes away.

So it's kind of weird that the door is closed, because all the other teachers' doors are open, but that's cool, maybe Mrs. H just wants privacy. At 7:30 on the dot, I was like, I'm going to just peek in so she knows we're here, and that's when we discovered the room was dark.

Oh, Johanna says, maybe the conference is in Ms. Celia's classroom. It's a joint conference, apparently. So we go down the hall and to the right, and are confronted by another closed door.

We're no dummies, so we tried it and ... the door was locked. Johanna looked at the door, then looked at me, and then got bright red. It might be NEXT Thursday, she says sheepishly, and you guys, how do you not laugh at that? I'm an idiot for not double-checking the time myself. So we went back to the car, drove home, and explained ourselves to a rather confused Eric and Abby.

So yeah, we wasted a half-hour of our lives, but we got this story out of it, so win-win, I guess.

And that's where we're gonna end this. I'll be back Monday with a real post. I've made great zero waste strides that I'm excited to share.

Honoring my dead

There's something that I like very much about El Dia de los Muertos, or Day of the Dead. It's not a big stretch for me, since as a Catholic, I'm well versed in All Saints Day (Nov. 1) and All Souls Day (Nov. 2). Except our observances aren't quite as hands-on.

Since my grandpa passed away on June 15, I've been thinking of "my dead" a lot. My list isn't long, and it's mostly made up of grandparents, but it's kind of a relief to have a day where it's okay to actively think about them and not feel like you're bumming everyone out with your sadness.

I don't really have anything else to say about that, except that I decided to make a couple of art journal pages dedicated to the souls I'm thinking about, not just on the Day of the Dead, but every day. (I know only one is showing, but the other is for our little peanut, and that's not something I want to share.)

Grandpa, Grammie, Gramps, Aunt, Uncle.

Well, I thought it was funny

I put together the "yesteryears" column for our newspaper, which is basically a run-down of all the things that happened in a particular week in history. Sometimes it's entertaining  to look through the archive books and sometimes it's boring. I swear the 1950s were the most mundane decade ever.

But sometimes I run across little gems like this, which appeared in our paper in late September 1925. I was totally excited by the awesomeness, but I wondered if the greater reading area would understand why I had chosen it (namely: We've come a long way, baby) or if they would think I was serious.

But then on deadline day it came about that one of our ad reps forgot to place a Very Important Advertisement on my yesteryears page and this thing had to be cut to make room.

That's life in a newsroom.

Enough is enough

Another shooting.

Another school shooting.

This time, in Oregon -- in Roseburg, specifically. 

And you guys, I just can't even. I look at the names and the ages of the people shot, how young some of them were, and I just ...

I keep hearing that if we as a nation couldn't get outraged enough to start gun legislation after Newtown, then probably there's no hope for us. But maybe this is the straw that will break the camel's back. Maybe this is the time that will lead to real reform.

I really, really hope so.

Because the current system isn't working. The definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over and expect a different result.

It's time to do something different.

And to those who say guns don't kill people, people kill people: By that logic, forks don't feed people, clothes don't clothe people, shoes don't shod people, houses don't house people, and cars don't drive people. You need more examples? Because I can do this all damn day.

Guns DO kill people. 

It's time to let go of the rhetoric.

Please? Can't it just be time?

Project 333: Summer edition

Ah, summer! Actually, summer with a vengeance -- the Pacific Northwest doesn't usually get this hot, and wow, we've had some crazy days.

It's not often that I start out on a tangent, and yet, my skillz are such that I can.

My July 1 through September 30 Project 333 summer capsule wardrobe really isn't too different from my spring wardrobe, although I did do quite a bit of shopping in June. Well, most of it is from the Goodwill or our church rummage sale, so... I don't know, that makes it better somehow.

Right?

And anyway, you can totally shop during Project 333 'cause this isn't clothing jail, so why you judging me, yo?

It's also hard to go off on a second, more angry tangent five paragraphs in, but I'm bereaved, remember? I get a pass.

My new used clothes! The blue looks purple here, but take my word for it:
It's gorgeous.

Sorry, this is kind of getting away from me. The words are being rambunctious.

This month, I've added three new skirts, taken out an old skirt, added a pair of shorts (my first since I was in my early 30s, I'm not even joking) and a pair of capris, and then found a great sweater and a peasant-style shirt and a couple of scarves -- although only one is making it into my rotation.

I bought two t-shirt type skirts new and the rest is secondhand.

I would not have thought this possible 25 years ago because I was not, shall we say, a fan of anything used. I felt like it was dirty somehow. Maybe I'm getting more relaxed in my old age? Because I think secondhand might be the way to go. It's easy to donate items when they didn't cost very much in the first place (for some reason... consumerism is deeply ingrained in me even though I'm going AWOL), plus there's the added bonus of not purchasing something with the heavy price of cheap fashion stinking it up.

So without further ado, here is my...
Summer 2015 Project 333 Capsule Wardrobe
(...all caps so you know it's legit):

Grey: Cardigan (1)
Black: Dress, capris, slacks, t-shirt, t-shirt skirt, cardigan, silk floral scarf, cute shoes (8)
Black and white: T-shirt, tank top (2)
Brown: The most perfect pair of sandals ever!!! (1)
Beige: Jacket, skirt, capris, slacks, shorts (5)
Beige and orange: Peasant shirt, tank top (2)
Orange: Scarf (1)
All the Blues: Navy cardigan, navy sweater, navy t-sirt, navy t-shirt skirt (SO SOFT), navy tank, denim capris, denim jeans, denim skirt, blue cardigan, blue peasant shirt (10)
Navy and orange: T-shirt (1)
Multi: T-shirt skirt, stripped scarf* (2)

...And if my math is correct (MATH. SO HARD.), that makes 33.

Huh. I'm usually in the 28-38 range, but rarely do I make the exact number I'm shooting for. Yay me, I guess.

Oh, and I've underlined the new stuff just because I'm bored and don't want to end this post quite yet. And, as we've already established, two of the seven are new new and the rest are new used.

And yes, I fully expect this wardrobe to carry me through the hotter than hell conditions we're facing now (103º mid-July? Not cool, you guys. HA HA HA. Oh, the words are hilarious today!) and the potentially cooler fall weather we may or may not have in September (our Septembers are usually better than our Junes, although this June was pretty damn amazing).

One more random thought: I love blue, and it's nice to see my wardrobe finally reflecting that. I feel best in blue.

And that concludes this term's wardrobe. The end.

*This thing cost me 50-cents and it's a name brand that probably wouldn't mean anything to you but is the shit in this tourist trap of a town I call home. Didn't even realize it was a brand name until the day after I bought it. It makes me laugh. Mostly because it's kind of ugly. What, I'm not the only person who buys things for their entertainment value, am I?

What NOT to say

So once upon a time, like last Friday, someone told someone I love very much that they should not be in mourning for my grandfather because he was 92 and we should be glad that we had him so long.

And some other stuff along the lines of "just get over it."

So I had not planned on writing another "mourning" post, but you guys, I am deeply offended, and since I can't go tell this person off, I'm going to instead give you a Mourning 101 lesson.

Because I'm mad.
Get it?

What NOT to say

"He's in a better place," or "He's not in pain anymore." We'd still rather have him with us.

"He lived a long, good life." Yes, he did. That's why it's so hard to say good-bye.

"You shouldn't be sad because he was 92." Uh, that makes it harder, actually, because we had him so long and knew him so well. And he loved us fiercely, and now that's gone.

"When I lose my loved one, I won't be sad because he's 95." You haven't lost your loved one. You have no idea how you will react. And you are not us. So shut up.

"It's time to just get over it." We will grieve as we see fit for as long as we want.

"Time will heal." What does this even mean?

"I don't understand why you ... (insert any of these: are so sad, can't get this figured out, can't do this, whatever)." You don't have to understand. You are not us. Putting pressure on us to explain ourselves is mean, yo.

What TO say

"How are you ... today?" The "today" makes all the difference.

"There are no words." No, there aren't. Thank you.

"Let me know ...  (insert any of these: when the funeral is planned, how your grandma is doing, how I can help, when I can visit, whatever)." This is helpful because now we know we can talk to you freely about what is happening. And that is a gift.

***

You know, for the most part, people have been really great. And I should probably point out that I've said some things myself on the NOT list before I understood what I was saying. Basically, when in doubt, just offer a hug.

Thank you. Seriously.

The five stages of grief are dumb

It's been a hell of a week and a half, and I'm just... I don't even know. Mostly I'm just trying to exist until this whole ordeal gets easier.

I have no idea if it will get easier. I assume it has to. But I don't know.

I keep trying to figure out where I am with the five stages of grief. Like maybe if I can pinpoint where I am with all that, I'll be able to predict when I'll be able to breathe again. But you know what? The five stages of grief are stupid.

Because no one grieves the same, of course, and anyway, some of them don't even apply to my situation. How can I bargain if I have nothing to bargain with? So does that mean I just skip to the fourth stage, depression, or does that mean I'm stuck here at stage three forever?

Also, why can't denial, stage one, last longer?

Why did I marry someone who doesn't even know how to fight? I haven't been able to vent any of my anger. That's stage two. I want a proper stage two!

And why can't I be angry and depressed and in acceptance? I'm a realist, you guys, I know what happened.

So it turns out the five stages of grief are too black and white for my tastes. And P.S., I have written this post and written this post, and erased a thousand words at least, and all I can come up with is this: Grief sucks. All the stages in the world can't change that.

Talk about pointless.

Goodbye, Gramps

1923-2015

Love you forever, Gramps. Thank you for being such a big, wonderful part of my life.

7 pointless updates

1. I got word this evening that my 92-year-old grandfather was "unresponsive" at lunch today, and the paramedics were called, and they worked on him "for quite a while" and "brought him back" and now he's in the hospital. Apparently he had no pulse. I have no idea what's going on, and I can't concentrate. That's why you get a list of updates. Anything more is beyond my abilities at the moment.

1.5. UPDATE: Saturday, June 13: I'd be remiss to not mention that my grandpa is still in the hospital, but is doing okay. Apparently the valve (a valve?) on his heart partially closed, causing the "episode." My mother says he has a great doctor, that Gramps is fine until he tries to stand up (and his blood pressure drops), and that all signs point to him being able to go "home" to assisted living.

P.S. My grandparents gave their notice to leave at the end of the month -- they want to go home so badly even though it's basically suicide -- but the doctor is telling them to stay in assisted living for their safety. (Uh, you think?)

2. Tomorrow is Abby's and Johanna's last day of school. Come 3:30 p.m., we will have a fifth grader and a junior. I. Can't. Even.

3. Our blueberry bushes are already pumping out the blueberries. We've picked twice. We should probably pick again.

4. I have not checked the raspberries yet. I love raspberries. I really should.

5. I missed the farmers' market this evening because I was tired after a long day at work, I hadn't had time to hit the bank for cash, and I'd forgotten my reusable bags when I'd left the house this morning. So instead of the planned salad and fresh bread, we had industrial pizza and my stomach is pissed.

6. The dog shelter people came to Jo's classroom today, and she really bonded with Josie, and she was SO EXCITED to come home and tell Dad about it and maybe get us signed up as foster dog parents. Because wouldn't it be fun to have Josie for a week? She's calm and a cuddler! Her optimism was no match for Eric's firm refusal. We are truly not dog people, but I can't help but think a dog would be really great for Johanna. It's just that we do better with pets that ignore us is all. Dogs actually require responsibility.

7. It really sucks that I have no idea what the future holds. I like to maintain an illusion of control, but at the end of the day, all I can do is shrug my shoulders and pretend to be okay with the fact that I am NOT.

It's "Harry Potter" weather

This week in Portland. If you google "Oregon Weather," it just assumes
Portland is the center of the Oregon universe. Depressing.

There's something about 80º-plus weather that makes me want to read Harry Potter. I think that's because the books were always released in the summertime, and I associate heat with Harry. 

Ah, the good ol' days. I'd reread all of the books before the launch of the next installment, out on the deck in the sunshine. This was pre-employment, you understand, so I had a lot of time on my hands. There's only so much laundry and sweeping you can do before you need to go find something else.

Hey, true story, I never planned to even read the books until they were all out, because I'm kind of terrible about waiting, but then I subbed at the middle school library (my old job pre-Abby) when Abby was four, and the series was there to "Order of the Phoenix," and the kids were all talking about them, so I started reading and came up for air like three days later pissed that I'd have to wait another two or three years for the next one because "Order" had just been released.

God, Umbridge. I'm still scarred.

Anyway, there is no point to any of this, other than I was sitting on the deck yesterday, looking at the mountain and thinking of Harry and how I'd really like to read the sixth and seventh books again (just because I haven't read them nearly as many times as the first five). So that will probably be my week, just FYI.

This mountain. This was the header image for the newspaper
a couple of months ago. I tell you this so you understand just
how big of a poser I am.

The end.

Eh, what's a little slander, really?

I'm not entirely sure what to write, and it doesn't help that I'm bone tired thanks to a kind of hectic week at work. But this is just to say that one of my stories Wednesday drew a letter to the editor claiming I'd slandered someone. Um, technically it's libel when you're talking about print -- slander is spoken word -- but really, I'm just splitting hairs here.

The fact that what I wrote was no where near libelous is beside the point, too, since when people respond, they're really just going from their gut, but it bothers me anyway. I guess because I tried so hard (and in particular with this story, since the topic was a wee bit contentious) and got so far, but in the end, it doesn't really matter.

No, wait. That's Linkin Park. My bad.

(That's plagiarism, by the way. I'm going for broke.)

(Also one of my all-time favorite songs.)

I kind of forgot what my point is, except that I'm tired and this doesn't help my self esteem any, even though my self esteem is ridiculously high. Every time I start feeling good about myself, I get a lesson in humility.

Probably not the worst thing.

The end, I guess.

Zero Waste Wednesday: Lunch

Bento box lunch! Salads are more exciting
after you've been to the farmers' market.

Whew! I almost forgot to post a Zero Waste Wednesday this month, and I'm POSITIVE everyone single one of you (hi, Mom and Ann!) have been waiting with bated breath to see what nugget of wisdom I'd be passing along this time, right?

[Crickets.]

Ah, well.

So. Zero waste lunches. I am a big fan. My goal in life is to ban plastic sandwich bags from the house, but Eric keeps buying them (STOP THAT, ERIC!), even though, as far as I know, he rarely uses them.

Mysteries.

Abby and I use LunchBots bento boxes (but there are several stainless steel options out there -- this is not a product endorsement but rather an idea endorsement). Her lunchbox actually used to be my lunchbox until LunchBots made me an offer I couldn't refuse and I ended up with three smaller bentos, like so:

Abby's!

Mine!

Although you can get colored lids, I just went with stainless steel because, quite frankly, I like to toss these suckers in the dishwasher and not worry about whether or not the cute paint job is going to peel off. (These pictures make it look like the lid is attached; it is not.) Abby's box holds a sandwich, crackers and some sort of fruit or vegetable; I usually use the single compartment for a salad or a sandwich, and the double for fruit or vegetables. I rarely use the three-compartment bento. It's kind of my Plan B when the other two are dirty and I'm too lazy to wash them.

But I also am a big fan of glass jars and lids, and use them to hold yogurt, dressing, crackers, desserts, and whatever else I can shove inside:

Except I use plastic lids.

Glass jars and lids work great for zero waste lunches. You can't give them to a kid (I'm pretty sure Johanna kicks her lunchbox around for entertainment), but for an adult? Easy alternative. Plus everyone has glass jars knocking around.

I'm not a particular fan of plastic containers, but we have many from our pre-enlightenment phase (?) and that is what Eric and Johanna use for their lunches. Not as pretty as mine or Abby's, but it does the job. Eventually I'd like to get everyone stainless steel lunch boxes. That will probably take a while, just because of the initial expense. (These things aren't cheap.) No one seems to be in a hurry.

Um, in conclusion, here's what my lunch commonly looks like using my containers and jars et al:

This day I went crazy and put homemade ranch in a jar.

Add a cotton napkin and a real fork, and I'm good to go. The end.

Pros:

Super cute

Stainless steel is an environmental boss

Stainless steel is reusable, dishwasher safe, and practically indestructible*

I mentioned they're super cute, right?

Cons:

None for me. Johanna and Eric have to deal with plastic and its aftermath, but whatever. What's a million years to biodegrade, really?

Oh, wait: Expensive to start with

* It survived a bonk on our kitchen's tile floor, which is how we test the durability of all our kitchen products. Usually accidentally.