Great day

There are good days, and there are great days. Yesterday, was a great day. There are no "what ifs" no "if onlys" just an amazing sense of satisfaction at the end of a day that went exceptionally well. 

I wish it were this easy

Could it get any better?

When I was in my twenties I went through this season where I gave up on happiness. I had achieved a number of things that other people were happy about. I graduated college, had a sweet apartment, fun roommate, hot ride and a damn good job. When I was bored or lonely or feeling particularly reflective, I would take on some massive project to clean or organize.  One day, mostly likely a Saturday morning, the time when I tended to be alone and the most bored, I took to my walk-in closet. I showed it no mercy. My goal was not just an organized grouping of clothes but color coordination also. 

When I'd finished, I sat on the floor and tried to figure out why I had so much but still didn't feel happy.  And that was the moment when I gave up on happy. The best I could come up with was contentment.  And I left it. My mantra became "I am content with my life." I concluded that maybe happiness was a delusion, a false belief or if nothing else, maybe everyone didn't get to feel happy.

I wish I could remember as vividly the moment when the happiness came back. The effect of watching too many romantic dramadies is that I expect a dramatic scene where I started to see the world in color. Where I fell in love. Where the sun sets on the beach and I walked off into the distance. It was not like any of those things. There was a time I wanted to say "I am content with my life" but that was not even close to what I felt. Happy just fit better. And so I just let happy be. And happy is where I've stayed. I like it but I don't chase it.

I've graduated college (again), I have a sweet house, a fun roommate, the same ride, which is still hot, and a damn good career and I'm happy.

Storytelling

Inspired by a friend to read this blog post from Donald Miller, I immediately hit up my local university library catalog and requested every one of the 7 books on Donald Miller's list. My appetite for reading about writing has grown to insatiable. I admit that is because I have 7 books to read with looming due dates and some weird aversion to renewals. But mostly because the first 3 books I've read have been SO good. 

I had no idea that in real life, Stephen King is just a regular old guy. Not weird, not creepy, just a dude with a wife and family living the dream.  His work is writing and he is diligently about that. His thoughts on writing are enlightening for any writer in any genere. Same thing with Anne Lamott, her advice is strongly focused on everything other than a prescription on how to get published which from what I've read so far is the unfortunate end game for many aspiring writers. If you have a story, don't just write it but write it well.

One of the most captivating ideas that both authors have discussed is character development and plot. As a non-writer, I'm bored already just typing the words. Steve (that's what I call him now) suggests that in the writing process, the writer is merely the scribe of the characters. Any development that takes place is designed by those in it.  The story is already out there, just waiting to be written. I cannot stop thinking about that idea. So while the writer may have some thoughts, some ideas about the shape of the story, he cannot force it to develop a certain way. For example, what Steve had in mind for the ending of Misery was not in fact what happened. Turns out the main character had more gumption that Steve gave him credit for. I enjoyed being carried away by a good story.  Knowing that authors can be carried away in writing in a similar way is absolutely brilliant.

I have no intentions to write more than what my personal journal and this blog can hold but reading about other people writing is definitely a new interest. On to book number three, don't disappoint me Zissner.

Upstairs Left

I told the hubs, I have embraced the idea of "entertain early and entertain often" in relation to the completion of home improvement projects.  I'm amazed at how much we've completed overall at the new abode but when I think about the actual moment when those projects are finished, its usually late, late in the evening, the night before said an is set to take place at our house.

Poor upstairs left, the room where things went to die for the first month we lived at 801, has been no exception.

Its hard to believe there was actually a cutout in the wall even though these photos were taken just a few short weeks ago.

Hallway view

Bedroom view

I am convinced, this is better.

Hallway view after

Bedroom view after

And we could not have done it without this jury-rigged contraption. Thanks FiL.

Add a bed on loan.

And that is the transformation from upstairs left:no man's land to guest bedroom retreat.

I feel proud because I created this moment

Unless it was a high holy day, my family did not sit at the dining room table to share meals.  Growing up in a single parent household, dinner often was a free for all, popcorn and toasted cheese (that's right toasted, not grilled) being staple staples. My mom also preferred to use paper products daily instead of dirtying any dishes if possible. Great in the long run as my brother and I were "the dishwashers" but still not the traditional family meal time experience.

That is why I still have a sense of wonderment when the hubs and I sit down to a meal together. To put forth the effort for just the two of us feels extra special.  The food wasn't fancy, quiche and a salad (and even paper napkins) but the moment was worth capturing.

Heat Advisory

It was face meltin' hot yesterday. Its going to be to face meltin' hot today. And it will be face meltin' hot tomorrow.

This was before going to bed:

 By the morning the snow was deeper than my snow boots:

I'm 15 degrees cooler just thinking about it.




Photos taken December 2007, Wildwood, MO