it snowed last night.
perhaps a little to some, but for Rhode Islanders, a lot.
many of my facebook friends are talking about its inconvenience.
i am still in my jammies, reading pretty magazines and drinking coffee.
we do not own a snowblower... and the kids who ordinarily would help,
are now out at their respective college abodes.
i am planning on going out to do some shoveling soon.
it is a refreshing thing for me, as i have not always been singly responsible to do it.
it remains a pleasure almost...
considering my innate laziness with sports, this is amusing to me somehow.
while i was reading through my queue of magazines with beautiful photos,
i realized something.
i adore that i am able to make jewelry and i look forward to it daily.
when my feet hit the floor, i take care of my caffeine needs, tooth brushing,
showering and then i plan.
it feels a lot like a holiday, where i get to open gifts based upon my needs and dreams.
what i discovered this morning,
is that i always feel like i am waiting and this is what i am doing right now
to spend time until the next big thing happens.
in my mind, it is as if somehow everything is really important,
but a time killer.
i hate this revelation.
to the middle of my very core.
how could i possibly feel i am wasting time?
especially when i am doing something i really enjoy?
and that is enjoyed greatly by others?
what is up with this?
i am unsure of what itch needs scratching.
up to this point, many other career choices were explored.
did i become bored along the way?
how did they transform into passed choices?
what is it in my nature that allows me to sit in the middle of everything
and be some immobilized or stuck...
while moving forward?
it is probably not just my own issues... but those that many folks experience.
i just have no idea.
there have been hints at what is appearing to me for some time now.
i just swept them aside.
it is not uncommon that everything i do, impacts the next thing i do.
for example...
years were spent in school.
my academic interests led me to study math and sciences.
i did so, to prevent criticisms from the worst critics.
it kept me from feeling as if nothing i could do would ever be considered valuable.
my worst critic hobbled me.
i loved the challenges sometimes, but mostly felt it was a path to avoid confrontation.
as is the case, confrontation was inevitable.
i had in the meanwhile, created a different path for myself move around an obstacle.
in an experiment i discovered that i had some "talent".
talent was only visible to others.
i never felt it was my own.
so i again pushed it to the side.
i spent years chasing a fresh line of study.
architecture.
not that it was a failure...
it just was not all that pertinent to me personally.
it took finally being pregnant and starting to work on being a mom
to start to come into focus.
the focus was that i was working really hard at it, and it was not serving me well.
while learning how to mother my little clutch of children,
i went back to the crafting of my own childhood.
fiddling with beads,
knitting without abandon,
and
baking.
the baking won out.
i serviced many restaurants, coffeehouses, movie theaters, cafes and even a nursery.
it obsessed me.
i learned so much just reading cookbooks and watching pbs.
i was emboldened to play with food.
for valentines day, i made shortbread cookies that were half an inch across,
colored with pale tints of icing and matching sweet heart candies
(without red imprinted sentiments of love);
i made biscotti and had a recipe published in the now defunct "Gourmet Magazine";
bread was easy to bake... and i did bake a lot of it.
focaccia with lemon herb olive pesto on its surface.
walnutty whole wheat loaves.
mixed scones flavor after flavor, shape after shape, sweet after savory,
and everything else in between.
bagels for wintry days with the kids or pretzels.
hundreds of monstrously labor intensive iced decorated sugar cookies.
gingerbread houses from my own drafting table designs.
i baked and baked
so many things,
so many yummy things,
so many things requiring an oven.
eventually, i baked into burn out.
this had a little to do with it being a hundred degrees out and
feeling obliged to compete with huge bakeries.
not a mom shop.
the heat and the fatigue showed.
i finally quit my last customer.
it was overdue.
a fresh need was nudging forth.
something like a crocus peeking from the almost frozen ground.
pushing its way out one cellular day of growth at a time.
i did not fall into the jewelry, but rather tentatively had been adding it a little at a time
as i had been baking for money.
folks at the pool would say they knew it was summer
when i was beading along the water's edge.
so i began my journey and love affair with the bead.
it morphed into other stuff.
that now includes statement style necklaces.
more floral things than not usually are included.
however always something a little beaten up, chipped, old, and with a history.
it continues to move in and out of focus
all the time.
and it usually offers me great joy.
sometimes i am frustrated by it.
however that has become evident that my needs are to embrace change.
i resist change.
imagine a child being asked to swallow a pill for the first time.
it is not candy.
it is not to be chewed usually.
it is hopefully good for you.
wellness is a desired outcome.
and yet, most kids balk.
they refuse outright if they are my kids.
and i am frustrated by the panoply of resistances to the outcome
i know to be resultant.
why am i so stubborn and unwilling to change?
do i fear failure?
can't be that, i fail all the time.
it is how i grow and build upon that.
so what is it all?
why am i fighting tooth and nail to resist growth
and yet feel restless with my own successes?
crap, does this make me human?
guess i should put on my big girl boots,
do some shoveling,
forget about being so philosophical about these matters,
walk the dog,
tire myself out some,
and start making my spring line of pastel infused jewelry.
it may be time.
and it will be valentines day soon.
folks need these to sweeten their sweeties up.
i really hate how i tend to go on,
but in hindsight when i re-read these postings,
i feel a kinship to
'Peggy Hill'
from the illustrated cartoon,
'King of the Hill'.
her character is an idiot, with some oddly placed intelligence.
i identify with this.
and her 'musings' columns.
perhaps, i am just waiting to be drawn.
there is often talk of our family having its own reality series.
we have three potential viewers.
that is more than is enough ... for this nonsense that is part of my life.
just a little something here to cleanse your palette.
good luck with that.
for one sweetheart for his sweetheart.
what a nice fellow.
xo.w.
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