I just spent way too much time cutting out 200 4" squares out of fabric for an I-spy swap. Why? Because I needed one more thing on my To Do list.
I did a swap a few months ago and got some pretty awesome squares. And I want to make a quilt for The Boy, I can see us sitting on the banks of a river while The Man fishes and we play I spy. I can see us driving up to the mountains and he has his I spy quilt in his lap. Of course, I have to sew it first.
But, I wanted to do another swap to keep gathering cool fabrics. Because I am a craft collector. Hoarder. Craft ADD runs thick in my blood. But, this swap is done, I will mail it tomorrow and fulfill my obligation. Then, I will have 400+ 4" squares of different fabrics to make an I spy quilt for The Boy. And the cousin, because really, why make one quilt when you can make two?
My craft room is full of projects that I was totally in love with or found the materials cheap on clearance. I would like to think that eventually I will finish them all, but then what? I'll have to start up something new. But, I could honestly craft all day and all night for years and not make a dent in that room. It is sad. It does not make me happy. Being able to know that I will be able to do craft projects with The Boy and have everything I need literally in my craft store in my home, that makes me happy. But I cannot walk in there. I cannot find anything I need. Therefore, I cannot craft. And that makes me sad. But just looking in that room is overwhelming. To the point of me wanting to hang curtains on the nice french doors, so I don't have to be reminded daily of my empty promises. But, I don't - for that reason. To have it in my face daily. To remind me that I want to do better. I love doing craft projects, that will never stop. It is my therapy, my way to detach my mind and do something with my hands and have something beautiful come out of it. I am damn proud of my Christmas cards, when people tell me they are in their decoration box or still on their fridge a year later - that makes me happy. So I will never stop crafting. But I want to organize and be able to actually do it. Finish something. So I'm going to start with this quilt. As soon as I get my swap squares, I'm going to start that quilt. And finish it. Before The Boy is too old to enjoy it.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Buying Happiness
In the spirit of not beating myself up for not keeping up with posting on the blog, I'm not going to dwell on it. I'm just going to move on with it. But, it has been busy. Trip to visit the in-laws, The Boy was sick with a mid-grade fever, but it was the hottest he'd ever been, causing severe worry and all that stuff that comes with being a mommy. Then, he was feeling better so then we headed up to the mountains. And really, that's when things went into bizarro parallel universe world.
We have always been outdoorsy people to an extent. I don't mind camping, as long as I have a hammock or chair and a place to sleep off of the ground. I enjoy fishing until I've had my fill, and then I'll happily sit on the bank and listen to the river or read a book. I enjoy going for walks around the neighborhood and looking at the wildlife ("Look, a bunny rabbit!"). Growing up, we went camping pretty much every weekend. Camping in a pop up trailer was as much of a compromise as my mom would do for camping. No tents here. I would love to start camping with my family and let The Boy grow up with the same experiences. But, working full time, watching The Boy full time, trying to craft, trying to read, trying to keep my sanity - packing for weekly camping trips would probably push me over that thin line to insanity. Thus comes the parallel universe.
About a year ago, close friends of ours bought a cabin in the woods. Didn't think much of it at the time, as I was busy preparing for pushing out a kid. Fast forward to about a month ago. We decide, on a whim, to drive up there on a Saturday, fish and hang out at the "cabin" - and when we saw this gorgeous house in the woods with privacy and only 90 minutes away? The "I want one" kicked in. We started looking around the neighborhood up there. We started looking at the MLS. We started crunching numbers. We started realizing that hey, it's not out of the realm of possibility. Fast forward to last Saturday, whereby we go with a realtor to look at 11 properties in one day. Fast forward to this morning, whereby we put in an offer on a cabin that needs some love, but is on 5 acres of beautifully wooded aspens, needs a little love upstairs but nothing major, and if we complete the finishing work in the basement, would be our retirement home. And, while I am nervous about having two homes and the mortgage and responsibilities that goes with both homes, and while the concept of quitting work to be a stay home mom is out the window - I am giddy with the thought of having a cabin. In the woods. To escape. To have fully stocked and available for the on a whim weekends to pop up there. To leave on a Friday afternoon and be up in the glorious mountains before dark. To have a stress free, fresh air, relaxing weekend. To have a place where The Boy can build forts and play with sticks and dirt and have his boy friends up there to explore and enjoy. To be 15 minutes away from fantastic fishing water. To explore. To force us to leave the damn house and do something. To enjoy life. To enjoy how hard we have worked to get to where we are. To be able to do this. I am giddy.
And yet, there is this nagging feeling in my head, like it's too much. We are too fortunate. There are just a handful of people who know this is happening. That we are (hopefully) buying a cabin in the woods. That the phrase "We're going up to the cabin this weekend" will be frequently uttered, which makes me feel like a New Yorker going to the Hamptons, but way better. We have friends who are living paycheck to paycheck. We have friends that will be totally jealous of this, and we may lose touch with some of them over this. And if that's the case, they aren't the forever friends. But because of this, we are playing it close to the vest. And that makes me a little sad. I want to be happy, show happiness, enjoy my happiness, and not care about what other people think. I know that this cabin will be fabulous for my family, both the three of us and the more extended family. Where cousins and brothers and friends will come visit us, for a week in the cabin close to skiing or to enjoy the great outdoors by biking and fishing. Are we buying friends? Are we buying happiness? Hells yes. But what else is the paycheck for?
We have always been outdoorsy people to an extent. I don't mind camping, as long as I have a hammock or chair and a place to sleep off of the ground. I enjoy fishing until I've had my fill, and then I'll happily sit on the bank and listen to the river or read a book. I enjoy going for walks around the neighborhood and looking at the wildlife ("Look, a bunny rabbit!"). Growing up, we went camping pretty much every weekend. Camping in a pop up trailer was as much of a compromise as my mom would do for camping. No tents here. I would love to start camping with my family and let The Boy grow up with the same experiences. But, working full time, watching The Boy full time, trying to craft, trying to read, trying to keep my sanity - packing for weekly camping trips would probably push me over that thin line to insanity. Thus comes the parallel universe.
About a year ago, close friends of ours bought a cabin in the woods. Didn't think much of it at the time, as I was busy preparing for pushing out a kid. Fast forward to about a month ago. We decide, on a whim, to drive up there on a Saturday, fish and hang out at the "cabin" - and when we saw this gorgeous house in the woods with privacy and only 90 minutes away? The "I want one" kicked in. We started looking around the neighborhood up there. We started looking at the MLS. We started crunching numbers. We started realizing that hey, it's not out of the realm of possibility. Fast forward to last Saturday, whereby we go with a realtor to look at 11 properties in one day. Fast forward to this morning, whereby we put in an offer on a cabin that needs some love, but is on 5 acres of beautifully wooded aspens, needs a little love upstairs but nothing major, and if we complete the finishing work in the basement, would be our retirement home. And, while I am nervous about having two homes and the mortgage and responsibilities that goes with both homes, and while the concept of quitting work to be a stay home mom is out the window - I am giddy with the thought of having a cabin. In the woods. To escape. To have fully stocked and available for the on a whim weekends to pop up there. To leave on a Friday afternoon and be up in the glorious mountains before dark. To have a stress free, fresh air, relaxing weekend. To have a place where The Boy can build forts and play with sticks and dirt and have his boy friends up there to explore and enjoy. To be 15 minutes away from fantastic fishing water. To explore. To force us to leave the damn house and do something. To enjoy life. To enjoy how hard we have worked to get to where we are. To be able to do this. I am giddy.
And yet, there is this nagging feeling in my head, like it's too much. We are too fortunate. There are just a handful of people who know this is happening. That we are (hopefully) buying a cabin in the woods. That the phrase "We're going up to the cabin this weekend" will be frequently uttered, which makes me feel like a New Yorker going to the Hamptons, but way better. We have friends who are living paycheck to paycheck. We have friends that will be totally jealous of this, and we may lose touch with some of them over this. And if that's the case, they aren't the forever friends. But because of this, we are playing it close to the vest. And that makes me a little sad. I want to be happy, show happiness, enjoy my happiness, and not care about what other people think. I know that this cabin will be fabulous for my family, both the three of us and the more extended family. Where cousins and brothers and friends will come visit us, for a week in the cabin close to skiing or to enjoy the great outdoors by biking and fishing. Are we buying friends? Are we buying happiness? Hells yes. But what else is the paycheck for?
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