Category Archives: Choices

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False Advertising In People And Products

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I hate deception.

Some might say it’s just marketing  … expect it.

I broke a blusher recently, a small bit of enhancement in a compact container I’d purchased to put a little color in my cheeks so my intentional lack of sun wouldn’t make me look unhealthy. I tend not to wear it everyday, but as needed and never overdone. Given how little I use, it can take me a while to discover that I’ve been misled into believing there’s more in the container than it appears.

I hate being misled.

Recently I’ve discovered someone I was “friendly with” has acted in a decidedly unfriendly way towards me. What makes it interesting is how this person has remained virtually the same in their behavior to my face but behind my back, oh my!

The worst part is not how blind I was to it, but how much of my energy over the last few days has been focused internally as I’ve wondered why I suddenly became the subject of gossipy untruths and what to do with my disappointment.

Gossip is currency to some people, I get that and I really don’t mind if people talk about me if what they’re saying is the truth and they have my permission to share it.

Making it up as you go is never a good option because it just takes one slip up for the depth of deception to be revealed. Discovering how little there really was to my pot of blush after it broke when I dropped it was disappointing, but not unexpected. The lack of substance in someone I thought might become a friend caught me completely by surprise given some of our conversations.

I tend to be a bit of a “Pollyanna” with my optimistic enthusiasm and I may add a little blush when my cheeks need a bit of color, but I don’t make stuff up unless I’m writing fiction and I know when to let go.

I used to subscribe to the “three strikes and you’re out” way of thinking that began with American baseball and is now part of the U.S. legal system, but as I’ve gotten older I have less time for games and Maya Angelou’s method makes more sense.

When someone shows you who they are … believe them the first time.

 ~Maya Angelou

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Kitchen Renovation Week 2 – Is that Dust In My Soup?

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I have to be really honest with you. Aside from emptying some cabinets of their contents, taking a few pictures and helping with the design decisions, I haven’t done any of the real work involved in our kitchen renovation. John’s the workhorse here. After Bob and Brian packed up and went home late last week, John got out his tools and went to work. Here’s a bit of what he’s been working on over the last few days.

I know the ceiling looks as if we’re making a dubious color choice, but have no fear … we are not going with a milk chocolate-colored ceiling. It  turns light pink as the plaster dries and then we’ll paint it white. Remember the door that was on the other side of the wall? If you look below you can see where it used to lead to before John closed it for good.

The master bedroom and my studio space were until a few days ago only accessed through a door at the top of the stairs that no longer exists. After John sealed it up, my feet kept wanting to walk the same way out of habit so I stuck a note on the wall to remind me. It’s only a few steps beyond the remaining door, but I got tired of having to back up. The “Closed” sign made John laugh when he saw it and later when I went into the kitchen I noticed he’d posted a sign of his own.

I thought his “Open” sign was pretty cute, but I was really impressed with how he reused the old doorway to close in the new opening from the kitchen to the hallway. 

This photo should have been before the last one as he hadn’t completed the door frame yet, but it gives you a good look at the wall to the right where he closed off the old doorway. The dark boards against the wall are from the hallway. It’s the same wood flooring that runs through the master bedroom and my bathroom and studio space.

Here’s what the space looked like today. Didn’t John do a great job? I’ll be painting the door white over the next few days so it blends in better with the wall and we’re getting rid of all the brass wall plates too. We’re leaving the half-glass door as it is with its natural wood finish.

We’re thinking of oak planks for the kitchen floor, but we’ve got to live with it kind of patchy (like the spot above) while the rest of the kitchen is being finished. John said it’s going to be a few months (more like August) before we’re through with the kitchen/dining room renovation so if you’re coming to see us this summer consider yourself warned. It’s pretty dusty here.

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Breaking Down Walls When A Sledgehammer Won’t Do

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Yesterday morning I walked down the hallway from our bedroom to make coffee like I do most mornings leaving my husband John behind to sleep a bit longer. The path into the kitchen is not straight forward and as I stepped from the hallway onto the landing and then back through another door into the kitchen, I thought about how by the end of the day, the wall blocking easy access from the hall to kitchen would be gone.

And then just like that I went from visualizing breaking down physical walls to thinking about the emotional walls people sometimes put up and how I deal with them. Frankly, even I think that’s too much for a 6:00 am wake-up and certainly too much for me to be mulling before my first cup of coffee, but I couldn’t help myself.

Some of you already know that I grew up in a home of extremes, a place where my memories until I was 14 alternated between silence and shouting, and anger was meted out in harsh physical ways by raging adults who didn’t bother to hold back. Once I was safely out of my mother’s house and living with my dad and step-mom, my mother cut off all communication with me. I’m not sure there’s a bigger wall than a total lack of communication unless it’s death.

I’ve spent a fair amount of time and money learning how to break down the protective walls I used to put up. They serve no useful purpose after a time and much like the convoluted path from our hall to kitchen, it’s a waste of energy.

Not all barriers can be overcome, but given the right approach and commitment, the results can be obvious.

There are times when a committed attempt to chip away at an unnecessary wall will yield good results given the use of focused energy and proper tools.

One person can only do so much on their own and progress can be slow, but once a breakthrough occurs it may be difficult for the person on the other side to turn their back on the possibility of letting in the light.

Breaking down walls is hard dirty work. You use muscles that you may not have worked with in the past and even with progress towards a common goal, things might appear slightly cloudy at different points.

You may find you feel boxed in and think it better to try to climb over the wall taking a shortcut to a place where it feels easier to move and breathe.

But then you realize that breaking down walls can be easier when you work in tandem with someone else and when both people are committed to the outcome, the results can be seen much faster.

It’s good to know ahead of time that there will still be rough edges to smooth out after the walls are cleared away.

Decisions will usually still need to be made afterwards as you consider which doors you’ll walk through and which you’ll close off.

As you finish for the day, you’ll feel amazed by how much more open things are without the wall and you’ll remember that until it wasn’t until you tired of walking around it that you realized it did not have to be there forever.

Who knew that renovation could be a form of therapy … perhaps there’s a new business model in all that dust.

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Making Space For Something New

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There’s an echo down the hallway that sounds empty and loud from where I sit as I write. What John likes to refer to as the ‘East Wing’ is being readied for demolition … well, parts of it anyway.

It’s actually the hallway that’s been emptied because it connects to a wall that won’t be there after Wednesday and … then there’s the kitchen too. It’s having a pretty major redo over the next few months and I’d like to share it with you.

Here’s a few before photos before I show you our breakdown in progress.

(The sink, dishwasher, hidden fridge, cooktop, and oven are staying in the same place. The countertop/worktop and the tile are going to be changed and we’re adding a new extractor fan/hood over the cooktop. The table and chairs in the photo below are being changed as well. We like the table, but not the chairs so they are on their way out. The table may stay … at least for a while.)

If you came for coffee right now you’d see a house with dishes and china scattered through several rooms. Our dining room table is dismantled and leaning against a kitchen wall, and spices and other foodstuffs are sitting temporarily on the coffee table in a space where they’re likely to have to be moved as the big work begins.

(The right corner wall is being taken out which will give us more room for the dining area)

What began as plan to open up a space and gain more room for the dining area has morphed into a major kitchen remodel. I am tickled to pieces having never had an opportunity to have a say in any kitchen design and my head is spinning now with possibilities and the decisions we need to make.

(John’s been taking things apart to get ready for the builders and in addition to our mess, you can see where the fridge and dishwasher are located.)

(The windows are being replaced along with the dated Artex ceiling and we’re adding hardwood floors)

Maybe I could run a few ideas past you to see what you think after I do some more research.

If you have a dream kitchen you’d like to share or maybe what you wish you could change in your own, leave me a comment or a link and I’ll put them all together in some posts to follow. As always, I appreciate your thoughts.

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Life Without Laundry Baskets – Breaking Bad Habits

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Laundry baskets used to be the catch-all for all odds bits of stuff in my life and while they do sell them over here, I’ve not been in a mad rush to go out and buy one. That’s right … there are no laundry baskets at all in this house.

In my previous life, clean clothes rarely seemed to make their way out of the baskets and into the dresser drawers. I’d fold the clothes, put them back in the basket, carry the basket to the appropriate room, and there it would sit until it was practically empty because I hated putting up laundry. These days,with no laundry baskets in the house and no tumble dryer for me to hit the refresh button, things tend to go directly they belong.

An added benefit to our no basket approach is I no longer have a place to stash miscellaneous stuff to sort out later. It either goes into the proper place for it or it finds a new home.

You may be thinking with only a drying rack and an outdoor clothesline … how do they transport the wet stuff?

I snapped the photo below the other day to show you how we do it here. The sun was shining so it we had a big wash day and after filling the clothesline you can see hanging in the very back, I moved the drying rack outside too to take advantage of the weather.

When you live in a place with frequent rain and no dryer by choice (John’s choice, not mine, but I’ve adjusted) you learn not to put things off. And with only one very old baby’s bathtub to get the wet stuff from washer to clothesline, it gets used and put away afterwards so it’s always empty and at the ready for a good wash day.

John’s been using his niece’s old bathtub to transport washed clothes outside to the clothesline since he found it in his dad’s attic after his father died in 1997. The plastic bathtub’s former occupant turned 29 earlier this week and while she looks great, the plastic on the tub is beginning to crack.

If I know my ‘use it up or wear it out’ husband at all, I’m betting we’ll use it another year or two before we buy something more traditional like the one below.

Internet Image

Having had time to learn the new behaviors I mentioned above, I think I’ll be okay having a laundry basket in the house again, but only if we stop with just one.

 

 

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When Memory Fails You

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The Ghost Next Door by Wylly Folk St John. Illustrations by Trina Schart Hyman

I’ve read Kyran Pittman’s work for longer than I can remember beginning with her first blog, Notes to Self. I think I found her around 2006 when I discovered there was a community of folks doing something called ‘blogging.’ Her talented husband, Patrick created a logo for me back in 2007 which helped me track time through old emails, but I’d be hard put to come up with an exact date.

All this chatter about memory, dates, and Kyran Pittman is due to a comment I left on her  website, Planting Dandelions a few days ago.

It turns out that in addition to our expat identities as women who married and moved for a love met online, we both collect owls.

Owls you say … stifling a small yawn perhaps.

I’ve loved owls from childhood when I read a book written by my Aunt Wylly called The Ghost Next Door. Kyran recently wrote about her owl collection and asked if any of her readers had collections as well. I left a comment sharing a brief bit about how my aunt was responsible for the start of my owl collection and how her book had influenced my choice of collectables when she’d asked me around age eleven if I had a favorite animal I might like to collect.

Everything I said was true except my memory of the book cover which is ironic when you consider that it’s been sitting on a bookshelf in every place I’ve lived over the last 40 years  except for those that occurred during my transient time in the military.

In my comment I said there was an owl on the cover with love in its eyes, but as it turns out the book cover I was recalling was not mine above, but the one below, a reprint from much later and one I’ve only seen online.   

See what I mean … there’s the ghost child Miranda holding the owl with love in its eyes.

Kyran left a followup comment to mine asking where she might see the book cover and it was then I remembered that my first edition copy had the owl on the title page and not the cover.

You’re probably thinking ‘ so what ‘ unless you write or read memoir and know how important it is that your memories are accurate. Kyran will know exactly what I’m talking about as her book, Planting Dandelions is a memoir and is as she says ‘ … about becoming a family, while still belonging to myself. ‘

I write a lot about family and sometimes I can check in with them to see if our memories match knowing that while some of our experiences may mirror each other, how they affect us and what we remember, may vary a great deal.

Writing memoir is tricky. There are some things you can never forget as much as you might wish you could, while other memories shift just as my cover story did leaving me with an uneasy feeling about future stories. You can bet I’ll be tighter on fact checking in the future.

My brother-in-law, Leon is a writer, editor, and blogger and he has a cute disclaimer at the top of his blog that reads: ” Warning: The following contains opinions and ideas. Some memories may be accurate. ” I loved the ‘ may be accurate ‘ when I read it thinking how clever his warning was, but after my little mixup I wonder now if perhaps he was being more serious than cute.

There are things about The Ghost Next Door and my aunt that never get confused and I’ve written about her impact on my life and inadvertently my daughter Miranda’s in other posts on my blog. You can find them if you use the search space. (I’ve left you a clue below)

Aunt Wylly’s books were always mysteries filled with the kind of delicious clues a curious girl needs growing up, particularly when her home life is such that she needs a more pleasant distraction. Her books made me think and it does not surprise me that the still unfinished novel I began during NaNoWriMo has evolved into a mystery with a fantasy twist. As much as memoir appeals to me, I do like the freedom of making things up as I go when sorting out the plot lines in my novel.

Gifts From Wylly Folk St John

Gifts From Wylly Folk St John

I’ll leave you with the image above of two owl gifts that my aunt gave me when I was a girl. Both sit on a bookshelf in the studio space where I do most of my writing. The book is written in French, a language I never learned, and I’ve had it since it arrived in a birthday package on my 14th birthday.

I kept it all these years because it was a gift from Aunt Wylly never knowing that 34 years later I would marry a man in another country who would speak French and be able to read it aloud to me.

There are loads of memories that connect me to my aunt, some of which I may remember differently from time to time, but all tender and all connected to love.

Margaret Harper, Wylly Folk St John, holding Pam Jones, & Elizabeth Harper

Margaret Harper, Wylly Folk St John, holding Pam Jones, & Elizabeth Harper

This photo was taken at my aunt’s home in Social Circle about the time I made my owl preference known. I couldn’t know then how much influence she would have on my life or how she would affect my writing years later.

Looking at her smiling in these last two images, I can’t help but notice there’s a bit of an owlish look to her and I’m surprised I never saw it before.

Thomas St John with Wylly Folk St John

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The Gifts Of Friendship

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Tell me I’m clever, Tell me I’m kind, Tell me I’m talented, Tell me I’m cute, Tell me I’m sensitive, Graceful and wise, Tell me I’m perfect – But tell me the truth.

~Shel Silverstein

Searching through a virtual mountain of photos of my dear friend Patrice, it was this image that made me pause and get a bit teary-eyed. Taken last September when she was here for a visit, it illustrates what I consider one of the best parts of our relationship … the quiet moments of earnest conversation and sharing.

Not long after Patrice and I first met, she gave me a tour of her home telling stories about different things as we went from room to room in a way very similar to what I might do. Knowing early on that I was a big reader and lover of books, we stopped in front of a bookcase where she had several books that were special to her heart.

At least one was written by Shel Silverstein, an author I knew about, but had not really read and it seemed meant to be somehow that this quote jumped at me when searching for one on friendship this morning. I smiled when I read it knowing that she would understand exactly why I chose this one.

Today is Patrice’s birthday and even though I can’t be there to help celebrate, I wanted to remind her how much I love and appreciate all the ways she has enriched my life with her sweet friendship. I celebrate the light she brings to my life and the many ways she has helped to illuminate the truth.

Happy Birthday, Patrice!

Patrice ... Celebrating the Light!

You can go here to see more photos of Patrice’s trip to Cornwall last year.

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Unlikely Friendships

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” Francis, Francis, why do you always wander away when I’m trying to talk to you?”

“I know she’s back, I can see her at the wall too, why don’t we waddle over and say hello, come on old boy, what can it hurt? ”

” You must think I’m crazy, Giovanni … that is a dog and it does not want to play! It looks as if it wants lunch! ”

 ” Francis, could you just try to get on with others a bit better, it’s a big world out there and I think we should explore more than this patch of water. What about a little trip to see what’s on the other side of this pond?”

” Alright fine, but just remember who’s leading this expedition!”

**************

There’s a place I like to walk where I always look for these two unlikely seeming friends when I pass by. In mild weather they sit in the river on one side of the house and in winter you can see them in the back garden at the edge of a small pond.

It seems funny to see a drake and gander always hanging out together like two good old boys who don’t seem to need anyone else. I like to create little vignettes when I see them and I find their constancy very comforting in a world where things often change faster than I would like.

I gave them names from history for today’s post and wondered if any of you might recognize who they represent?

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Feeding The Spirit

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Sometimes getting outside is just what a body needs. Yesterday delivered with a mostly sunny Monday and John and I took some time off to smell the roses … okay, there weren’t really any roses, but the flowers are beginning to pop here and it felt like a big hug from the universe to do nothing but what we wanted on such a gorgeous day.

I took this photo about a week ago thinking then how much it looked as it was saying, “C’mere you and let me give you a hug” which makes it perfect for this post as it’s what I’d like to do to say thank you for all the kind comments on the “Am I Blue …” post from Sunday. I heard from folks through Facebook and email as well and I want to be sure you know how much I appreciated your messages.

While winter appears to have left us, there are still reminders everywhere. Yesterday was the first time it’s felt seriously springlike this year with a mostly blue sky day and a warmth that allowed me to leave my coat behind.

Of course, I had to take a few photographs to share. The new shoots on this tree were so soft they reminded me of feel of a young boy’s head after a summer buzz cut when his hair even when cut super short, still has the softness his baby years.

This one was a surprise! As soon as I saw this butterfly, I thought that’s it, spring must really be here or this beauty would not be. I managed to snap only one slightly soft image before it flew off leaving me still marveling at how early it was to see it. (If any one knows what kind it is, I’d love for you to share it in a comment)

This tulip was inside one of the biomes at Eden Project which was our first stop of the day and I had to do some contortions to get it without climbing into the flower bed.

This yellow lovely was growing outside the biome and John said that it’s a Kingcup and member of the buttercup family, a flower I fell in love with for its beauty and its significance in our early relationship.

Things got steamy inside the rainforest biome making my lens go fuzzy faster than I could snap the shutter creating the moody shot above.

The purple pops in this image of this Dwarf Iris.

This Horsetail plant is one of my favorites at Eden Project and I went in close this time to photograph it at the beginning of the plant that looks and feels like a horse’s tail.

We had lost a some of light by the time I took this one, but it was back a bit later in time for a walk through the gardens at Lanhydrock.

While there was a good bit of green at Lanhyrock, (it’s always green in Cornwall) I had hoped to see some of the flowers that add to Lanhyrock’s charm. It was too early see more than a few blooming trees so after a quick look around and a sunny rest stop, we headed for home.

The face of a patient man waiting for a wife who has to always spend ” just a minute ” in the resale bookstore at Lanhydrock where sometimes there’s a treasure hiding in plain sight.

The Lanhydrock Gatehouse

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Pillow Talk

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You wouldn’t believe what I went through to find these little darlings. I’ve been searching for months and it was not without some amusing misunderstandings along the way. John had no idea why I kept saying I was looking for pillows for the sofa and one for our bed.

Because I wasn’t very descriptive as in, “We need more color in those two parts of the house,” and we weren’t shopping for them together, he never had a clear idea of what I was looking for until recently.

Here in the UK, a pillow is something that goes on the bed and under your head at night. After seeing that the term “pillows” seemed confusing, I moved on to words like, “throw pillows and decorative pillows” which produced a few more strange looks before he said. “Oh, cushions, you want cushions!”

To which I replied, “Nooo … cushions are what we sit on, not put behind the small of our back for support or use to provide an accent color.” When I asked him if he knew about accent colors he said, “Accent colors … not really no.”

In the end it all worked out fine once he discovered what I wanted and why it was important to me. I say again important to me, because he didn’t see the need for them. I know I looked at hundreds of “cushions” online and spent months physically looking in various stores here and in the US when I happened to be someplace that sold them, but last week I finally decided that I would just have to make my own and asked John to take a trip to Truro which has a great fabric store.

Of course, it was the same thing … loads of choices and none of them right. It was only after I went into a little market area nearby that I narrowed my search and found the perfect and lovely pillows below. House of Rugs was the store where I snapped these up and put an end to a long hunt.

The sweetest part of it was when I took John into the store to show him the pillow, he took one look and said, “Right then, let’s get it.” He didn’t even pause at the price although I had a few minutes earlier which was 33 BPS or the equivalent of $51 for my American readers.

I was pretty surprised because even I thought they were a bit pricey, but we paid for the one we took with us, ordered a second one, and I walked out of there all giggly that I had found the perfect pillow.

I asked him later why he didn’t even hesitate over the cost as he’s usually fairly frugal and he said, “I could see they made you happy.”

What a sweetie, huh?

Now if I can just convince him that we need a new rug to go with the cushions … or maybe even a blue comfy chair for me … I have just the spot in mind.

I’m holding this up at a funny angle so you can see the colors I was trying to add to the room. The colors I wanted are in the artwork around the room with some right behind it in this photo. These are just two that have the blues and greens I was hoping to duplicate in my pillows.

Here’s a look when we just had the one cushion and later with both after we picked up the second one yesterday. I can imagine a blue chair off to the left side of the fireplace … can you?

The coffee table is not as bright white as it looks here and it usually has something on it such as flowers or a plant. John made it 42 years ago mostly from driftwood he picked up on the beach in Ireland. I like how it provides some lightness with so much dark furniture and the pillows help as well.

I pulled the oil painting above the sofa out of the attic when we were decorating the living room a couple of years ago and I’m thinking it may be time for a change to something else now.

It’s funny how you begin by thinking that adding a throw cushion or two will complete the picture and suddenly see that there’s more to do.

Suggestions anyone?