Enough is a Feast: Lessons from The October Dress Project

I did it.  I went one month wearing, as a basic element, one dress.  I changed it up every day, but some days looked a lot like other days.  So, I know what I'm comfortable in.  I know what I like.  And it's not just jeans and sweats anymore.

I like wearing a dress.  More than I thought I would.  And, I like tights and leggings.  Not real thrilled with dress shoes - and yeah, those $1 clearance shoes - I'll have to give them another chance, but they may go away.

But here's the more important lesson:  I have enough more than enough.  Which is why I have, on first go-round, purged 50 articles of clothing, and taken them to Goodwill.  And these were my winter clothes (because, living in the north, I am not going to take my summer clothes to Goodwill in the winter).  And I have more to purge.

This is also why, when I went shopping a few weeks ago, and picked up that little pie cookbook (yes, all pies) that was ONLY $1 - I put it back in the bin.  Because I have a shelving unit FULL of cookbooks and recipes I've clipped from magazines and index cards full of recipes...well you get the idea.  I have all kinds of cookbooks and I still cook the same stuff all the time Hal still does most of the cooking.  Having said that, I did take lessons from the best piecrust maker in the universe last month when we were making apple dumplings at the church, so I think I can stop buying ready-made piecrusts.  I think.  But I HAVE a CRAPLOAD of pie filling recipes - I did not need ANOTHER cookbook - even though it was ONLY $1! 

I've gone to the thrift stores lately - and looked - and walked out.  Same thing at non-thrift stores.  Ok, so I've bought some stuff - but mostly walked out.  Bought some wire to repair a necklace.  There is one thing I'm looking for - a black blazer to replace one that does not fit any longer.  But I'm fussy.  It needs to be the right material, the right cut - so, it may be another year before I find one - but it will be one that will stay in my wardrobe - a basic.  I've seen really pretty sweaters - but how many blue sweaters do I need (for the record, I have 4)?  How many green turtlenecks (for the record, I have 3)?  You get the idea.  I have some really pretty skirts...that hang in my closet.  I went through, and there are articles of clothing I have not worn since I left South Carolina more than 4 years ago.  Why have I paid to move them twice???  I have no clue. 

I had a friend who recently said they'd rather die in deep debt than live within their means if it meant their life was "a life of sad leftovers and never going out or doing anything fun.  You only have one life."  Wow.  I think that attitude is sadder than my turkey pot pie from my upcoming Thanksgiving dinner.  Frankly, I'm looking forward to pot pie with my newfound piecrust recipe.  I can (that is, I put food in mason jars and preserve them, not that I am able - although I am able as well).  I freeze.  I am going to get my hunting license this year.  I have as much fun taking a walk on the trail as spending money on tickets to events.  I am thinking particularly of the ad where the girl breaks up with a guy because he's boring - so he uses his credit card to go backstage at some concert, goes on some expensive trip - he's probably still boring, just spending more money (that he probably doesn't have).   When my grandchildren come to visit, we blow bubbles and go to the playground (free) and make playdough (yes, make it), and color and go to the library and Sunday School and playgroup and cook - we don't buy them lots of expensive presents - most of the toys and games I have at the house came from the thrift store (I love bleach). 

I had another friend tell me the other day that they were a little concerned about my coming here - til they found out that I love yard sales and thrift stores.  I get that.  Where I live is not somewhere I'd survive if I was a woman who shopped at Saks, changed out my wardrobe every season, or needed the best/newest/coolest new thing.  As I tell people - I'm too dumb for a smart phone.  I am satisfied with what I have - and when I'm not, I'm cheap - I'm as happy buying a new top at Goodwill or Salvation Army or whatever other thrift store (mind you, I will look and see what color tag is 1/2 price that day)(yeah, I'm that frugal cheap).

We are a spoiled society.  Really.  In case you didn't know.  But we need to recognize that we have become used to getting what we want, when we want it.  We have gotten away from this concept that my parents and grandparents embraced, out of necessity at times: use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.  We decry the plight of those who do not live as well as we do, while we buy, buy, buy to fill the emptiness in our own lives.  Or we pile stress on ourselves by buying more than we need, more than we consume, more than we can ever use, more than we can pay for without paying exorbitant interest rates.  I'm not saying that we should not prepare for the future.  I'm not saying we should not ever have extra food in our homes or that we should not have more than one outfit or pair of shoes. 

I am saying this:  as we who are Christian approach Advent - let us reconsider our "lists" of stuff to do, things to buy, places we "have" to go.  Let us look at what we have.  Let us be satisfied.  Let us look at those who have little.  Let us see how we can help.  Because Enough is a Feast.  And that feast is not to be hoarded, but shared.  And for those of my readers who are not Christian, while you may not be approaching Advent, please consider the same. 

October Dress Project, Part II

So - now that I'm a week into the October Dress Project, here are some of my thoughts.

First - yeah, the point was to simplify, and I've gone and bought some more stuff (oh, yeah, I forgot in my last post, I bought a third pair of shoes - on clearance for $1 at Gabriel Brothers).  Having said that - some of it is stuff I needed to replace, some of it is stuff I should have added to my wardrobe years ago.  And I think that, until my sneakers blow out, I'm done with buying clothes for a long time.

And here's the thing - I am much more comfortable in a dress every day than I thought I would be.  Granted, I love my jeans, tees, and sweats (and when I'm not in the dress - like now - I'm in my sweats).  But you know what?  I really like being in a dress.  It makes me feel more like doing something.  Like going somewhere.  Like putting on jewelry (don't worry, hon, that does not mean you need to buy me more jewelry - I have plenty).  Still resisting the idea of makeup.

It has cut down on my laundry.  My initial intention was the dress and one pair of sweats all month, but that went out the window when I gave the cats a bath, because I needed to change out of wet jammies and the dress was in the wash.

"The Dress" - yeah, the first night I laid in bed and thought, "Oh, crap, I have to wear THE DRESS again tomorrow" - and it was just the first day.  But then I thought of all the different things I can do with it.  And planned for the next day.

Then I realized, days 4 & 5 were very similar - not planned, but that's how it went.  Oh well.  I'm new to this.  It'll get better...or not.  Remember, I'm used to jeans and a top every day.

I have thoroughly enjoyed going to the ODP Facebook page and seeing the creativity in the other participants' choices.  They've given me some great ideas, and inspiration.

I've not made a big deal about this - there are some people at church who know, and anyone who follows me on Facebook.  As the month goes on, more people will be brought up to speed on what I'm doing and why I'm doing it.

So there you have it.  Simplification is complicated.  But it's fun.  And we'll see if I think the same next week!

The October Dress Project

The October Dress Project - a call to simplicity.  One dress, 31 days, 31 looks.

Ok, so...I usually don't like things called projects.  Because, well, they usually require work.  And planning.

And a project about clothes?!?!  You all KNOW how much I LOVE clothes shopping (if not, refer back to ""New Bathing Suits and Other Horrors" or "Clothes Shopping")

But here I am.  Excited about wearing THE SAME DRESS for 31 days straight.  And, I've been excited about shopping for the last couple of months for this.  Yup.  Me.  Excited about CLOTHES SHOPPING!!!

Here's the breakdown:  Dress:   $6 at Salvation Army.  It's originally from The Gap.  Gap no longer has this particular dress, but its similar dresses currently sell for $59.95.  I have bought 3 cardigans ($2-4 each), one blazer ($4), one velveteen overshirt($4), one necklace($0.99), 3 pairs of leggings (one new, $7; two "new to me", $2 each), 4 belts (ranging from $0.50 to $1.50) and a bunch of scarves (some of which can double as belts) (ranging from $0.25 to $2.50, most under $1), and a dicky ($0.99).  Aside from the one pair of leggings, and a scarf on clearance at Family Dollar, the only things I've bought absolutely new were 2 pairs of shoes; on sale, buy one get one 1/2 off, to replace a pair of blue pumps that died 2 years ago and a pair of black pumps that died earlier this year.  Do you KNOW how HARD it is to find plain pumps?  No bows, no "jewels", no spike heels, no flowers?  Just plain pumps?  So yeah, when I found 2, on sale, I snatched them up.  A little higher than I usually wear...but this dress is a little shorter than I usually wear, so hey, why not?!

And yeah, I had shoes/blazers/sweaters/scarves/jewelry that I already owned that I will wear as well.  I probably bought more than I will actually need or use.  But here's the thing:  when October is done - I have other skirts, suits, slacks, and dresses that these accessories will go with.  And that's the point.

I have clothes in my closet that I have not worn since Hal and I moved to Pennsylvania over 3 years ago.  Why?  I don't know.  But I know this:  I now have a base wardrobe.  Things that I can mix and match.  And I'll be going through the rest of my closet soon.  What I haven't worn/don't fit/don't like anymore will be going to the thrift store. 

Except for the dress I wore on my first day of school in Kindergarten.  Yes, I still have it.  And yes, it's hanging in my closet.  And no, I'm not giving that one away.

Artist or Technician

To set the scene that inspired this post: 
Last week on Facebook, I posted about Hal planning to preach at one of the churches he formerly served in Ohio.  He had asked me to play piano.  A friend said that he didn't know that I was an artist, and I protested that I was merely a technician.  He told me to accept the compliment as it was given.

Then we got to the church.  A young man was behind the piano, and I breathed a sigh of relief.  This young man played beautifully.  And I found out that he does not read music.  He has never had a lesson.  He plays by ear.  Hal wanted to sing "Sweet Hour of Prayer" - the young man did not know it, and I had not had time to practice that one, so we began to sing it a capello (not Acapulco) and halfway through the song, this pianist began playing along - a song he had not played before, notes he did not read.  And I stood in awe.  

And that, to me, is the difference.  I can play the notes that I see in front of me.  I can even memorized a song or two.  I can follow the directions for speed and loudness (or softness, as the case may be).  I can play with feeling.  But I cannot embellish.  I cannot add notes where the sheet in front of me has none (ok, I can, but it would not be pretty).  I cannot sit down to a keyboard and play by putting my fingers to keys - yes, I know what sound they have, but I need someone else to put them together on a sheet of paper for me to make it sound right.  I am a technician.  The young man at the church - he is an artist.  So was Ronnie (God rest his soul), my brother's friend, who could sit at the piano and play jazz riffs.  My mother asked me one time why I couldn't play like that.  I thought for the right way to answer, and told her that I have a skill; Ronnie had a gift.  And that is the difference.

My stepdaughter is a theatrical costumer.  She can imagine something in her head, put it to paper, design the pattern, and build a costume.  I can pin a pre-made pattern to fabric and sew it together.  Now, I have made a couple of purses(ok, so far 1 1/2) lately without patterns.  And they are/will be cute.  Yeah.  It's a rectangle with a button and ribbon.  But a dress?  A suit?  I can imagine something in my head.  Gets lost between  brain and paper.

So.  There you have it.  I'm a technician.  Now, I'm a decent technician when I work at it.  But I'm not an artist.  I have a skill, not a gift.  And that's ok with me.  And, it's ok if someone wants to call me an artist. 

Chick Caves

Yup.  I'm ticked again.  'Bout to get on my soapbox.  Here goes.

I just read a piece from here:  http://community.allstate.com/community/allstate_blog/blog/2012/02/22/a-mom-cave-to-rival-any-man-cave?cid=OTC-SOC-PB-BLOG&att=OB_A-Mom-Cave-to-Rival-Any-Man-Cave

First:  I guess I have to have a StepMom Cave or perhaps a Nanny cave; for those of my female friends who are childless, are they not allowed to have caves???     And, what if my friends who ARE moms want a WOMAN cave (because, after all, the article tells us that Mom cave tech involves "sound (toddler!) proofing".  That sounds like a "I'm not Mom in here" cave). 

Second:  Really???  "Man cave diversions:  Darts.  Pool.  Air hockey.  Mom (not woman)(yeah, I know, I'm hung up on that) cave diversions:  Magazines.  Crafts.  Yoga mats."

Ok, yes, I am working on setting up my craft room.  I am working on getting my fabric and yarn organized.  In a room with 2 walls of shelves for books (and other stuff, like family photos and mementos).  And I have one shelf of craft books/magazines.  I like magazines.  I keep what I want and throw the rest (which is why I have some craft magazines, because I like most of the ideas, and some issues of Bon Appetit).  But yoga mats?  Yeah, not in this lifetime.  But this is my CRAFT ROOM.  Where I organize things (ok, will organize things) that I and the church and Sunday School can use.  And since there are multiple sharp things in there, my grandchildren would not be allowed in (so I guess a "I'm not Nanny in here" room).

If I were to have a WOMAN cave, I would also have a dart board, a pool table or pingpong table, and air hockey.  I used to kick butt at air hockey.  And I'm decent at darts, although it's been a while.  And maybe a decent table for cards, chess, backgammon, other board games.

And while I might not have a keg...ok I WOULD not have a keg...why would I have a juice and wine bar?  Give me an espresso maker or a gas stovetop so I can boil my water to heat a good cup of tea.  Yes, right in my woman cave.  Perhaps a complete gas range so I can bake while I'm at it.  Or at least a microwave so I can heat the snacks we're going to be eating while we're shooting pool/playing cards.  And a fridge.  Not a mini fridge, they are too small to hold much of anything upright.  And, if I'm going to be heating frozen snacks, I need to be able to have them in the room, so a fridge with a freezer.

A velvet loveseat?  Nice to look at, but I'd rather have that in the formal sitting room and have comfy leather couch that I can stretch out on in my cave.  'Cause have you ever tried to stretch out on a loveseat?  I mean, I'm short, but not that short.

Oh, yeah, and my favorite:  a theme of "Hamptons beach retreat"?  WOW.  Not likely.  SO not likely.  Don't get me wrong, I miss the ocean, and I have one small basket of shells.  But Hamptons beach retreat?  Yeaaaahhhh...no.

Ok.  Done ranting.  So remember:  I do not have a Mom cave.  I have a craft room/library.  And it's not likely I'll get a woman cave.  Because I really love my husband.  So if we ever have a game room, it'll be our game room.  And if we ever get a workshop, it'll be our workshop.  And if we ever win the lottery (which is really unlikely since we never buy tickets), we probably still won't have man and woman caves - because we not only love each other, we like each other, and we'd be spending enough time with each other that it would be silly to have separate rooms to "play" or watch tv in.  Except when Walking Dead is on. 

Fast Food Rage

My sister coined the term, at least in our family, for the anger at the poor food/service at fast food restaurants, particularly at the drive through windows. Fast Food Rage. I have experienced it not once, not twice, but three times in the last 5 days; twice today.

Now, I understand, some fast-food workers are not well-educated, not well paid, not well motivated. I do. And I say this as someone who worked at a fast-food place. It is, in some cases, an entry-level job, a part-time job for those who are in school, or a second job. Not in all cases. And I am NOT writing this to disparage those people who choose to work at a fast-food place, either as a way to learn job skills or as a career. I am not. I am just writing this to ask them to consider those aspects of their job that they can improve on so I stop getting aggravated when they tick me off...I mean make an error.

Take last Sunday, for example. I headed to Johnstown to complete my hunter/trapper education course. I needed to eat lunch, and I didn't want to be late, so I decided to stop for fast food. Because it's fast. And, mostly, food. And fast.

So I went one of the two "Meatpatty MaleMonarch" locations that I know of on the route. I pulled up to the menu board/order box. I was greeted, placed my order, and was given the dollar total including tax. There was one vehicle ahead of me. I pulled up, waited for the other vehicle to leave the drive-up window, pulled forward, and waited. After a couple of minutes, a woman came up to the window, opened it, and asked, "Can I help you with something, Ma'am?" I looked at her kinda weird, and said, "Yes, with the order I placed." She said, "Oh." and walked away. ANOTHER woman came up to the window, and said that they were having problems with their headsets, and didn't know what I had ordered. She then asked me what I would like.

Now, what I WANTED to say was, "Really? Because you GAVE me a dollar amount due that included the TAX for the item I ORDERED." What I SAID (and, I will note, calmly) was, "What I'd like is to take my business elsewhere." And I drove away.

I then went to the OTHER "Meatpatty MaleMonarch" location in town (which was also on the way to where I was going) and ordered the same item. Because it was what I wanted. The young man gave me the SAME price as at the first location. I drove around, was greeted, GOT MY FOOD without being asked again what it was, and my change. I asked to speak to the manager, and she was promptly called over. I thanked her for her drive-thru person's attitude, told her what happened at the other MMM location, and suggested she call them and thank them for sending me to her because of their incompetence.

Today, I found myself in Johnstown again, this time to visit someone in the hospital. When I left the hospital, I decided that, since it was 1 PM, I should probably eat. So, I pulled into the drive-thru of the "Southern-State Non-Broiled Poultry" and was asked what I'd like. I said I wasn't sure yet, and the person told me to let them know when I was ready. You would THINK this would be the time to tell me you don't have something. You would think. I placed my order - for a sandwich meal with fries and a drink. To be greeted with "Um, we don't...um...have any...um fries now, it'll be about 10 minutes before we can do them. Would you like...oh, mashed potatoes?"

Yeah. I want to eat MASHED POTATOES while I'm DRIVING DOWN THE ROAD. Now, the image of my Uncle John, who was pulled over for steering with his elbows while he was eating a bowl of cereal flashed through my head (no lie, the newspaper headline read, "Snap, Crackle, and Pull Over"). But I calmly said, never mind, I'll go elsewhere. Because I had another hospital visit to do in another town, had some errands to run while in that town, and had two (count 'em, two) meetings this evening.

So, I decided to give my first MMM another shot. They were right down the road from the SSNBP, and I wanted it FAST (the first word in Fast Food)(which means it's more important than it being food). I pulled in, asked for a particular sandwich meal. I was told, "Our broiler's down. We don't got any meat now. Just chicken and fish."

Thought one: CHICKEN AND FISH ARE MEAT.
Thought two: You don't got? What happened to we don't have? We have no?
Thought three: I could have ordered chicken or fish. But I don't like the chicken or fish at MMM, only the beef. Or whatever those patties are made of.

So, I said that I would, again, take my business elsewhere.

I then went on to a Founder'sDaughter'sName location, where I ordered my favorite meal there. I was given a price. I drove up to the window. I handed my money. I was handed my food. I was handed my drink. I was handed my change. WOOHOO!!! I thanked the person at the window - I told them they were the 3rd fast food place that I had been to in 5 minutes. I told them they would no longer be my third choice. They smiled widely and wished me a good day.

And it was good.

Stories for Another Day, Part 3*: The Elephant in Our Bedroom

So, last night, neither Hal nor I slept well. We both got up around 2 am, were up for a little while, and then went back to bed. And that's when these two dreams happened. Well, actually, they happened some time later, after Hal had gotten "up" up (as in, got up to get ready to go to the office).

First: Hal and I were in our bedroom. Only it wasn't our bedroom, it was a room with twin beds, located in my Aunt Tillie & Uncle Bunnie's house, and the bedrooms were interconnected (which they were not at my aunt and uncle's, but I digress...). We had come upstairs to go to bed after finding one of our elephants had died. When we were in bed(s), our other elephant, Lucy, whose trunk was cut (like, 3/4 of the way through it about 2/3 of the way up the trunk) (but she was still swinging it), was crying. Elephant tears (as opposed to crocodile tears). Hal told her to settle down, I reached out and patted her trunk. She turned around and settled. I left the room (through a door that does not exist at either house), and walked down the hall, taking a step down, continuing down the hall, taking another step down, and going to the back door, all the while thinking this would be a great facebook post - that Lucy had turned around in our bedroom - but that no-one would believe that we had a pet elephant...

Mind you, NOT thinking that there would be no way that I would get an elephant into our house, up the stairs, and in through the bedroom door. Yeah. Just that no-one would believe we had a pet elephant. Named Lucy. That had room to turn around in our bedroom.

Back to the dream: At the back door (which was decidedly at my aunt and uncle's, including the 2nd step down in the hallway which led to the bathroom and laundry room)(and how did they raise 3 kids in a house with only one bathroom, anyway???), I looked out, and copious amounts of dirt and mud were being pushed out from under the steps through the space between the top of the porch and the drop-down board (I know there's a technical name for that but...) - so I called Hal. 'Cause he's my husband and I call him when I need something scary taken care of... And by the time he gets there, out pops this beautiful bird, mostly white, with blue on its head, tuft and down its neck. Not a bird I have ever seen. I remember thinking in the dream that it was something that belonged in a tropical setting, not in NJ or PA.

So, then, I don't know if it's part of the same dream or another, I was sitting on a couch, by a table. On the table were piled kid's plastic building blocks. Not built into anything, just piled. And they started falling onto me, the couch, and the sheet that was covering me. And Hal was there. Neither one of us knew WHY the blocks were falling on me. Until I saw IT. And could not figure out if it was a large black moth or a small...BAT...because its face looked like a bat face but the wings were rather powdery looking. I yelled for Hal to look at it, but then it went down the back of the couch UNDER THE SHEET and I tried to trap it (or at least keep it from crawling on me). I remember yelling Hal's name over and over...and over...and at some point I became aware that I was in bed, that I was not in that dream anymore, but I still could not wake up - I was yelling "Hal", "Up!", "Wake", "Help", and was hitting the blankets on top of me, trying to get his attention. I even dreamed in this part, that Hal walked into the room and ignored me because he thought I was kidding. I woke myself just as he came up the stairs to finish getting ready for work.

Now...understand that I have nightmares about every other month. And, when I try to wake myself up screaming, Hal gently reaches over, puts his arm around me, tells me it's ok, he's there, and that he loves me. So it's not like he would ignore me - I just think that in my state I must have been thinking, he'd wake me if he knew. Especially if he knew it was about a bat, because he knows how I feel about them. (FYI: They are fine if they stay outside. In my turf, they need to go.)

As for Lucy - I know that Lucy the Elephant in Margate, NJ is in my mental history. Not that I've ever been to her - I think I've been past her. But why was her trunk cut? Why was she in our bedroom (unless it's because I was gassy last night...and whenever "that" sound escapes, one or the other of us calls out "It's an elephant!")(yes, we're that old and still do fart jokes). Crying? Well, our one cat, Callie, cried for months after Wesley, the cat we adopted with her, died (poisoned Chinese cat food). I may have heard her in the middle of the night, and just made her an elephant instead of a cat. But it's the year of the dragon...

Yeah, don't try to analyze them for me...just understand, these are NORMAL dreams...and if I take a sleep aid, they are worse. So yeah, I deal with my insomnia by just not sleeping.

*Yes, I skipped parts 1 & 2; weird dreams was the 3rd mention of "Stories for Another Day"; I'll get to 1 & 2...yup, you guessed it, another day.

New Bathing Suits and Other Horrors

If you've read my blog at all, you KNOW how much I LOVE clothes shopping. Yeah. Like, I'd rather have my finger or toe nails pulled out one-by-one. Or go to a lecture on medieval personal hygiene (wait, that could be interesting). Or...well, you get the picture. I hate the prices, I hate the styles, I hate having to try clothes on.

This summer Hal and I will have been married for 10 years. Yup, 10 big ones. And while we loved camping last year, we decided that for #10 we should do it up bigger than normal. So we are going on a cruise this year. Yes, I know, that ship just went aground and a number of people lost their lives. We'll have a different captain (dear God, we'll have a different captain, right?)

I decided, for a cruise, I should probably have a bathing suit. Not one from Goodwill, like I bought last year (and put shorts on over it). But a real, new bathing suit. From a "buy new stuff here" store.

Understand, I don't swim much. I was in my Goodwill suit twice last year. Which is more than I've been in a pool in...a while. I was in my 30's when I learned how to swim. At the Y. With a very patient instructor. I was not the only newbie in the class, so I didn't feel too bad. I was told that I was odd in that I swim underwater, not on the surface. I guess that's odd. I don't know.

So...for the last month or so, I've been looking for a suit. Something befitting someone of my age and...um...size. And budget. I think I'd have better luck finding a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, a buried treasure, or the cure for the common cold.

I have found several that I like...my colors, my style...oops, out of my size. My color, my style...bottom in my size, no appropriate top (or vice versa). My color, my size...and showing more flesh than my doctor normally sees. My color, my size, my style...and costing more than my first car did.

So. Yeah. Probably not going to buy a bathing suit for the cruise. Will wear some nice flowing skirt or maybe a pair of shorts (if I don't go insane trying to find a pair that's...appropriate).