Crimes of (Decorating) Passion - Oct. 2011

Once again it's been a very long time between posts.  No excuses, just didn't do it.  I've actually been busy. My daughter, son in law, and grandkids have flown our nest and are settled into their new home.  I thought I would have all this idle time to do nothing, but it turns out, I've been super busy.  We've done a lot of redecorating and subsequent shopping to make the "new" rooms just right - by my standards.  I absolutely love when my creative juices take hold and send me into a decorating frenzy.  To me there is no greater state of mind.  I listen intently when people tell me they cannot make decorating decisions - paint color, accessories, etc. - and I find this foreign.  I have the other problem I guess.  I cannot decide what NOT to do, buy, etc.  For someone whose blood runs with a full pallet of colors, it is hard to tame the desire to change things constantly.  There are NO white walls in my house - only in our closets and that even bugs me at times.  MY frustrations come when I look around the house and want to RE-do things!  Turns out this creativity is a bloody addiction!  Artie has always been an accessory to my crimes of decorating passion, thank God.  I can't imagine what it would be like to live with someone who stifles creativity in a person who bursts with it.  Please don't think I am bragging, because I truly believe everyone has it in them to be creative, but some of us have to satisfy our "itches" more than others.

Having the creative germ/disease can be very frustrating at times, believe me.  It's hard to live with the demon that is creativity.  I think I've said it before, but because of my love for photography, I cannot look at the world without somehow "framing" it in my mind's eye.  I look at all things as if they can be contained and forever captured in a 4" x 6" photo.  This can be maddening at times.  I realize that by taking photos so often I miss the event or scene.   I guess that is why photos are so wonderful for everyone else - it captures the moment for others to enjoy...but the photographer misses out because their eye is plastered to a lens.  I now carry a small point-and-shoot Nikon in my purse because Heaven forbid I should miss out on a photo op.

After reading "Claude and Camille" (the story of Claude Monet and his wife Camille) I'm reminded how artists become consumed with their media or passions.  Everyone in the know tells us to find our passion(s) in life.  I have found way tooooo many I think!  Claude Monet was frustrated throughout his life about painting the picture that would make him famous and that drove him, and those who loved him, to the brink.  Artists aren't really crazy.  They are just overly passionate.  I don't think there is a pill or therapy that could take this away.  It really is a vicious circle.  Photographers always seek capturing that one amazing shot, artists hope to paint the next great piece of art, authors want to first get published and then write a best-seller, decorators want to create the perfect home, crafters want to earn a living selling the fruits of their labors...and each does so with frenetic obsession and sometimes reckless abandon.  I find it interesting, however, that people who think they cannot do anything creative - citing not having "one creative bone" in their bodies - live with the same level of frustration at not being able to do these things.

So...to frost my cake of passion, I've included some photos I took this past weekend.

Annie-isms

My granddaughter does more than her share of making me laugh.  Her "inquiring mind" is always on overdrive.  While the passage of time has made me forget some of her funnier moments, I chose to write about two in particular that made me laugh incessantly.  Both Annie-isms had different effects on me, as you will see when you read them.

The first, which I've shared with many of my friends, came on the heels of a purchase of some card games. I bought my grandchildren boxed games of Go Fish, Crazy Eights, and Old Maid.  My oldest grandson has become very much into playing cards and he and I had just finished up a rousing game of Old Maid.  Neither of us wanted to get stuck with that old battleax!  Who wants to end a game with an old maid in their hands?  It was nearly bedtime and the kids were asked to put away the cards and get ready for bed.  Annie volunteered to pick up the various boxes of cards and while putting them back into the boxes she paused for a moment and looked my way.  A big smile came over her face and she ran over to me shouting, "Grandma! Grandma!  This looks just like you!"  To my chagrin, she was holding the Old Maid card and was proudly pointing out my apparent strong resemblance to the dowdy, grey-bun-wearing Old Maid.  Talk about a reality check for me.  I laughed it off, as any good grandmother would do when their beaming 4 year old granddaughter compares them to the old hag on the card's face, but I still haven't gotten over it and for some reason I find myself looking more critically at the face I see in my 10X Magnifier mirror each morning.  Note to self:  get rid of that God-forsaken mirror!

The second Annie-ism came this week.  She was watching TV and abruptly turned to me and came to sit on my lap.  She began studying my face and then mused, "Grandma, are you going to get old like Grandma Lores [my mom, who is 90 years old and bears the wrinkles of a life filled with love, loss, and time]?  I told her that I hoped I would live as long as Grandma Lores.  She continued to study MY face and then asked, "Grandma?  Is your face going to change?"  I knew where she was headed, wondering if I would get wrinkles on my face too.  I needed to ask why she wanted to know this, so I fell for it, fully expecting another reference to that dreaded Old Maid!  I patiently explained to her that yes, my face would change, and then readied myself for her response.  She looked at me and with her sweetest smile replied, "I don't want your face to change because I like it the way it is!"  Birds began to sing, the sun smiled down from the Heavens, butterflies danced outside my window, all was good and right with the world.  Note to Old Maid: not this time, honey!

New Glarus and Restaurant Kryptonite

When browsing someone else's blog, I checked on mine and realized it has been nearly 4 months since my last post. Wow! How on earth did I let that much time get away from me? I guess saying I've been busy is the simple answer...and I have been...but the truth is I haven't had much to chat about. My life has sort of settled into the "same old, same old" pattern. Living with little ones is all about days flying by, and then looking back at the end of the day/week and wondering what on earth just happened? Haven't I already lived this life already? I am doing it again with my grandchildren now. So, what have I been up to? Well, I've done some redecorating in our house - new look for both the master bedroom and bath, and the other bathroom (much more kid-friendly now, since it's the bathroom the kids use), been to some parties - the most memorable being a good friend's surprise 60th birthday party, traveled to New Glarus, WI for the Heidi Fest (which was nothing like it was when we last went nearly 10 years ago - no parade of past Heidis - the highlight of the day, besides the cream puffs which were also a no-show).

So, the Heidi Fest's disappointments got both Artie and I lamenting on the car ride home about how sad it is when good things go bad. Watching favorite restaurants close, shops shutter their doors, open land turn to concrete jungles, and more. New Glarus used to be one of those charming WI towns you like to share with others - a Swiss village with rolling hills, chalet-style homes, CREAM PUFFS, an amazing arts and crafts show, and best of all, that parade of Heidis, past and present - complete with many cow-themed floats, and delightful Heidis of all shapes, sizes, and ages - some literally stuffed into their corseted outfits like Swiss sausages. We visited it for the first time when we lived in Janesville, WI and fell in love with it, or what it used to be. What we got on this trip instead was a sham of a craft show (10 vendors), no parade at all, no creme puffs, no bakery with the delicious restaurant on the 2nd floor, barely any stores left at all. It broke our hearts for two reasons - one being the anticipation of seeing the town we loved and seeing only a shell of what it was, and secondly, to have wasted time and gas for nothing. The same thing has happened when we return to Green Lake each year. More and more of our favorite places have fallen to the dreaded economy, and the replacement shops just don't have the same appeal. Wisconsin has always been our "go to" place for all things charming, earthy, and even unique. This has changed. I hate it when that happens.

You should now be made aware that over the years Artie and I have become restaurant kryptonite! We have been "responsible" for the closing of many places that we were fairly regular patrons of. On the trip home from New Glarus, as we were discussing the dreadful changes we just experienced, and pouting from it, I told Artie that we should hire ourselves out to competitors of successful dining establishments. Just pay for us to dine there frequently and be guaranteed that we will shut it down. This has happened so many times that we almost hate to be "regulars" anywhere for fear we will watch it shutter up its doors and move out. What is up with this? One of our favorite places in Delavan, WI was a place called The Wagon Wheel. We would drive nearly an hour from Janesville just to enjoy the delicious food and phenomenal chocolate martinis (me). It closed! We loved a Cuban restaurant in Bartlett, Siboney, and it closed! This is only two in a long line of restaurants we've ruined by liking them. Restaurateurs, beware!

Eagles and Robinsons

Strange title, isn't it? About a week ago I found out about an eagle's nest being broadcast via webcam from Decorah, Iowa. Being an eagle lover I have been hooked ever since. I tune in daily - sometimes a few times each day. It is fascinating to me to watch this majestic pair of our national bird tending to the nest that holds 3 eggs, due to hatch next week. I feel like a birdie grandma each time I check on my babies. I am now wanting to name the parents, as well as the newborn eaglets once they are born. Tsk. Tsk. This is a no-no for all things wild I discovered.

When did I become so interested in all things nature? I was born and raised in the city, became a suburbanite at the age of 15. I have always admired beautiful things, probably part of my artistic genes (a lot of artists in my bloodline), but now I can't get enough of birds, coyotes I see roaming the suburban streets, even ugly opossums I see who met their fate as roadkill. I almost cried when I saw a dead squirrel on the side of the road the other day. What is happening to me? Premature senility? Too much time on my hands now that I am retired? I read something the other day on the "chat" portion of the eagles webcam site from an older gentleman who expressed some regret in waiting so long to appreciate nature. It was like an epiphany for me! I am even more committed to my appreciation of birds, animals, and plants now. I have the time in my life now, so why wait until I am older, like the forlorn gentleman chatted about?

The webchat portion of the eagles site has a lot of information that I have just eaten up. Each day it seems someone who has signed on to chat expresses a desire to name the eagle pair and babies. As I mentioned above I felt the same way. The mediators explained that wild animals and birds are never to be named. I guess it has everything to do with the freedom they have and deserve as WILD. Personally, I think it's because we have no right to own anything wild, and that naming them gives you some right to ownership. We cannot own an eagle or any of their offspring. Even the mating pair doesn't have "ownership" of their eaglets. Once they have "fledged" the parents may never see them again. As a parent of humans, I have no concept of this (especially since both my kids now live with us again). Knowing all this still hasn't made me not want to name these majestic birds.

My next mission is to try to get my family members to share in my passion for nature. I always try to engage one of them when I visit the Decorah eagles site, but no one stays interested for long. My own children call me a dork. My grandkids will watch for a while, but then something else catches their interest. Artie tries to look interested for a while, but that fades too.

Having time on your hands sometimes lends itself to thinking about your legacy. While our children and their children (and their children...) are our legacy, I want it to be so much more. I want my grandchildren to have an appreciation for animals, birds, trees, and more. With so much technology available to them there has to be an outlet for them to express a different passion or interest. I think Aniella may have the nature-lover gene. She has sat with me as I visit the eagles site, asking a lot of questions. She has been excited to see robins - the harbingers of spring - and I have tried to make it exciting to welcome these birds as such. Just yesterday she looked out the patio doors and exclaimed, "Grandma! Grandma! There's a Robinson in the tree!" After I stopped laughing out loud, I shared a private moment of glory. She was excited about a bird! Maybe ONE of my family members will share my passion.

If you are interested in the eagles website, and you have read this before they "fledge", here is the link: http://www.ustream.tv/channel/decorah-eagles

Cabin Fever to the Nth Degree!

I must be getting old. I am experiencing one of the worst cases of Cabin Fever ever! I have become as grouchy as a troll under a musty bridge! This winter has really been devastating to my psyche. I have never wanted sunshine more than I do now. As luck would have it, our trip to Florida - supposedly to escape the dreariness of Illinois in winter - turned out to be a continuation of lousy, chilly, damp, and wet weather! All we wanted was some sunshine, and what we got was 1.5 days out of 7. Is that sad or what? The Sunshine State failed us miserably. My streak of bringing rain wherever I go seems to have escalated to the point of ridiculousness. I have brought rain everywhere we have traveled in the past year. Will I bring record rains to Maui in July? Will there be no rainbows because of cloud cover? Now I know I should not be complaining because I have gotten to go on vacation and all, but I have been actually finding myself perseverating over these dark and dreary days to the point of almost having an anxiety attack over it. Lunching with our retirees group yesterday helped a lot, but today I had to cancel plans for a birthday luncheon with my dear former 5th grade colleagues because Landon has strep and I will have to watch him while Lindsay runs Aniella to school. Not such a big deal to most, but to me, devastating! I am now pouting, crabby, and ready to scream. Being up since 4:30 with Guinness acting weirdly did not help my case. I think today might be a day to call upon my creative juices. Do I dare break out the oils and paint something? I had planned to paint a picture for one of my pregnant friend's nursery, but if I do attempt it and mess up or have an "artist's block" will that put me over the edge?

To make things worse, I have also reached a saturation point with cooking for 8 people every day. I am sick of all things food, have no desire to make new things, despite having a collection of cookbooks, online recipes, and foodie magazines lying all around me. Eating out is not an option. Too expensive for 8 people to do it daily...but it sure is tempting sometimes. I love it when my son in law pitches in and does the cooking, but I don't expect him to do it after working all day and then coming home to three kids, a dog, and Lindsay.

Don't worry about me. All it will take is some sunshine to turn my frown upside down. Why do I live in this part of the country?? I know the answer, and that frustrates me even more. Hope your life is filled with sunshine - literally or figuratively.