Finding Inspiration

(Source: The New Decorating Book, Meredith, 1997)

I don't know about you, but I adore this bathroom and confess to having envied (more than once) the people who get to enjoy it on a daily basis.

You'll be glad to know I have since repented and can now look at this photograph with nothing but sheer admiration. The book it appears in was published in 1997, but it is still my kind of bathroom. (I'm nothing, if not an old fogy.)

Since I can't claim this bathroom as mine, I decided to take one or two elements from the photograph, things that could work in my teeny-tiny guest bathroom, and imitate them, but use my own touches to make it my own.

Since I already had a shelf similar to this in my guest bath, the shelf is what I went with, zeroing in on how much I loved the glass bottles.

Using this as inspiration ...

I created this in my guest bathroom.

One day, perhaps, I will get really energetic and install the beadboard panels, but that'll be another day or year. For now, I'm happy.

As long as I've been old enough to decorate, I've used photographs as inspriation, as a jumping-off place, if you will. By adding personal preferences and touches, it's easy to make any idea your own.

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Summertime

Did I mention I’m not huge a fan of summers in Southeast Texas? This kind of heat, with high humidity, is relentless and gets very old, very fast. You walk 20 feet to the mailbox and come back with sweat running down your neck. Family gatherings cannot be enjoyed outdoors. The A/C runs 24/7, wide open. The heaviness of the air drains you, physically and emotionally.

On the other hand, there are things about summertime that I totally adore. A fresh tomato sandwich makes any day quite bearable.

I’m just curious. How hot does it get in your neck of the woods? Please tell me I’m not alone in my misery.

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Yearning for Simpler Times

I love this photo. Here's how it happened.

Last Friday, The Man and I, along with big sis and brother-in-law, sweet niece and her family met up at Old Town Spring, which is just a skip and a hop from my back door. We ended our outing at Wunsche Bros., a landmark café that looks like something out of a Western movie. I go there as often as possible. The burgers are amazing.

After getting seated, we called twin sis (who was just getting off work) to join us. While we waited, I took sugar plum to the front to let her watch for her Aunt Gayle through the window.

I wish Gayle had been able to get her reaction, when she first saw her (she was, literally, jumping up and down, waving her arms), but I dearly love this shot with all of the reflections going on. I like how it captures both of the crazy aunts, who are crazy about sugar plum, but mostly how it evokes a feeling of simpler times.

Speaking of simpler times, I’ve had a yearning for them lately. A serious yearning. I attempt to live as uncomplicated as I can, in this present world, but I miss the simple days of my childhood. Life wasn't as easy back then, perhaps, without some of the conveniences we enjoy today, but I think, in many ways, our conveniences have only complicated our lives.

I've always enjoyed the paintings of Janet Kruskamp, because they illustrate simpler times. I have a couple of note-card sets that showcase her work, but you can find more at her website.

Isn't this scene simply divine?

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The Latest

I’ve been told you’ll never be a “successful” blogger if you don’t blog regularly. Since it’s been a whopping 10 days since my last appearance in blogland, I guess that puts me in the “not-so-successful” category, but who’s keeping score? Not me, that’s for sure.

The reasons for my being MIA range from my desktop PC passed away (it seriously did), to you-wouldn’t-believe-it-if-I-told-you. So, let’s just leave it at that and pick up where we left off, shall we?

The death of the desktop was not unexpected. I've been through computer deaths before and knew the signs. Problem is, I kept ignoring them. And then, we had a couple of power outages, back-to-back. Seems the motherboard got fried at some point, even though I have surge protectors. Perhaps it was just the desktop's time to go.

The good news is the hard-drive was saved, but I've learned to keep my stuff backed up anyway, for the most part. There may be a few files and photos on there that I will retrieve, at some point, but I haven’t even started my hunt for the next machine. For now, I’m using the laptop.

I’m happy to announce the book giveaway drawing took place on the appointed date, the winners have been notified, and the books were put in the mail yesterday. I apologize for being slow with getting this sorted out. The winners were:

Mary (Corners of my Life)

Debbie (Words on Wheels)
Lenea (non-blogger)
Dean (non-blogger)
Gail (Gail-Friends)

Thanks to all of you who entered. I am honored and humbled to call you friends.

I hope to be blogging a little more in the coming days, but, if I continue being not-so-successful, you’ll know my attention has been captured elsewhere. Sometimes, you just have to live your life, instead of blogging about it. Such has been the case.

I told The Man just recently, "We’re going to have to leave town, in order to get some rest." Perhaps we will do just that.

Hugs to all my blogging peeps. I think of you often, and keep you in my prayers.

Until next time, press on!

Losses of the Heart ~ It Takes Time to Grieve

A friend and I were talking about loss last night—particularly losses that are heart-related. Grief, I told her, is not something you can skip over and suddenly be on the other side of it. How we wish it were that simple. But it is a process that you have to go through. Grieving is not a short road to travel.

Oh, there are those who attempt to go forward without grieving, but I’ve seen it too many times. Unprocessed grief, regarding major losses in our lives, will influence everything we do and touch until it is processed. It’s like dead weight. You may not recognize it, but the people around you will.

“The moment we bury what we can’t bear to look at, we decrease our chance for the recovery we desire. Unresolved issues become crippling.” Those are the words of healthcare communications expert and author, Ina Albert. She says 20 minutes a day is all it takes to transform grief and pain into healing, and I happen to agree with her.

Ms. Albert’s book, Write Your Self Well (Mountain Greenery Press), helps you learn how to put on paper the painful losses and experiences that have left you broken and tired. It allows you the opportunity to say what you’ve kept inside, perhaps for a long time.

I’m not here promoting Ina Albert, or her book. Truth is, I’ve never even read it, because I don’t need to. I know, from experience, that writing in a personal journal about painful losses has been one of the keys to recovering from them. But be warned. It isn’t as easy as it sounds. Unless you write your raw emotions and feelings, re-living those agonizing moments, you’re wasting your time.

And you need to write (not type) it all down. I don’t know how to explain it, but the actual motion of writing, and pausing, and writing, and taking some time to walk away and cry, it’s all part of the healing process.

Image by Deborah DeWit Marchant

The good news is once you’ve spilled those experiences and words and feelings onto the paper, the relief will be certain. Twenty-minutes at a time, word-by-word, sentence-by-sentence, your grief will go from being pressed down and heavy, to being out there for you to examine and deal with. Every day that you write will take a little more weight off of your heart. I promise, it will.

To avoid grieving is, perhaps, a symptom of this instant-gratification society in which we live. Things move fast. There’s Twitter and Facebook and e-mail and texting. We don’t want to miss a thing. I mean, who has time to grieve?

But grieving takes time, and you owe it to yourself, and to those who love you, and will love you in the future, to take time to grieve. It hurts while it lasts, yes, and it's equally important not to get stuck in any of the seven stages of grief, but I believe grieving is necessary, in order to experience a full life going forward. I believe there's no other way.

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