wee morning house finch
bedheaded and curious
watching me brush teeth
*** ***
just who’s watching whom?
he was just letting me know
the feeder’s empty
House Finch Window Peeper
Haint Blue
As a Christmas present in 1985, my parents gave me an antique chest of drawers that has needed a facelift for at least two decades now. The date on the back is stamped 1926, and it is made of a dark hardwood. Some of the original knobs fell off, and one drawer needs to be repaired at the bottom. It’s a lovely piece, and the feet resemble the posts on my twin beds that I slept on as a child and that are now pushed together to form a King Size bed. Believe it or not, I still sleep in these beds today with my husband and our three schnoodles.
I couldn’t get rid of the beds. They came out of an old house on Sea Island Georgia, a smaller island off of St. Simons Island, where I lived as a child. The undersides are painted Haint Blue, a common practice on coastal islands in the southeastern United States, rooted in the belief that this color wards off evil spirits and ghosts. Sherwin Williams even has a paint color named Haint Blue. In addition to painting this color under beds, people also paint it onto porch ceilings as well.
I’ve had paint sample colors, paint stripping paste, and all sorts of brushes and tools ready to give some of our furniture a new life for six months now, and I’m finally getting around to the actual work. That Christmas gift from 1985 was at the top of my list, even though my grandmother’s kitchen table started the big avalanche of projects.
This week, I’ve watched about a half dozen YouTube videos and talked with my furniture flipping daughter on how to use chalk paint and all the variations and ideas for using it. I started simple – – with a can of Greige (a Behr paint color cross between grey and beige) and some new black knobs for the chest of drawers. I learned that a quick sanding is all that is needed, and that chalk paint dries in about 30 minutes, allowing a few coats and a complete project finish in an afternoon except for the wax wait time to cure. I used a small furniture roller and got to work.
Before:
After:
I’m lining the drawers with contact paper to give it a fresher look, and moving on to my next project – – a small end table that I use in my reading room for my coffee by my reading chair.
I’ve chosen Sparkling Sage for the table and will finish the top with a white wash.
Let’s get sanding.
It All Started with Cookies
I was scrolling through Pinterest and Facebook for table refinishing ideas in December when I came across these Christmas cookies. The color scheme was perfect! We’ve been doing some upgrades to paint and furniture here and there recently, and I knew when I saw the cookies that I’d found the basic colors and inspiration colors that I’d been seeking.
Imagine that! Finding a color scheme in cookies.
The past couple of Colors of the Year include Evergreen Fog and Blank Canvas – both of which are variations in this collective scheme. We’d used a green and white in our master bedroom, and the nightstands needed a makeover from the 1980s whitewashed pine look. Everything has been everywhere as we have been cleaning up, cleaning out, and recovering pieces, but here is the before picture of one of our two matching nightstands, below.
A quick few coats of chalk paint in Swiss Coffee (Behr) for the base and Evergreen Fog (Sherwin Williams) for the knobs and feet turned out just like I’d envisioned these pieces for a room-brightening change.
I’ve applied the sealing wax, which won’t be completely cured for 2 weeks but enough for initial use after 24 hours. We can’t wait to have a place for our bedside lamps once again!
Next on the list is a chest of drawers in our guest bedroom, where the color scheme includes gray and black. That will be for another day – – meanwhile, I’ll be looking for some new paint colors on the cookie pages.
Goals and Aspirations for 2024
At the end of each month for the past decade plus a few years, I’ve reviewed my yearly goals and spent time reflecting on how I’m living the life I want to live ~ a way of becoming my own accountability partner and having frequent check-ins to evaluate my progress. The process I’ve been using has been helpful in guiding steps of intentionality and observable differences – – it has put teeth of quantifiable measure in the conversations I have with myself whenever I might attempt to believe that I’m making progress and provided a way to articulate exact progress so that I’m not merely shuffling things back and forth and deceiving myself. I make a table, establish goals, and keep an accountability log of accomplishments and action steps through month-end reflections. I learned this system somewhere in my early years of teaching and it was reinforced by my doctoral chair, Dr. Rachel Pienta, who assured me that it would get me to the diploma at the finish line with fewer tears and less frustration.
She was absolutely right.
This year, though, I’m tweaking my process by a few degrees to get to the things in life I need to accomplish. Everything on my list is not an ongoing action goal – – some of these are aspirations, and I need to recognize the differences and prioritize my efforts. Weight loss is an action goal that needs quantifiable progress markers with a timeline. Downsizing and retirement planning needs quantifiable progress markers with a less strict timeline. But gardening and hobbies like knitting or quilting or canning fig preserves are not as high on the list of priorities, and they’ll fit in between the more challenging goals where time permits.
So this year, I’m using a different system. I’m evaluating my progress in bold areas monthly, and all other areas quarterly.
I’m looking through a proverbial viewfinder for the big areas of life where I need the presence of some focal lenses, and I’m thinking of the smaller aspects of those larger lenses as I adjust the diopter lens and take snapshots of my journey.
2024 underway, taking us on a new scenic journey. The conductor punched our tickets at midnight – – (and where we live in rural Georgia, our front door literally shook with a sonic boom from someone’s Tannerite explosion welcoming the new year).
It’s here, folks! Welcome 2024, and cheers to you and yours!
The Viewfinder
| Optical Lenses of Focus | Diopter Lenses of Possibility | Snapshots of Success |
| Hobbies and Life Outside Work | Sewing, Knitting, Quilting Traveling and camping Gardening Birdwatching Monthly reading group with Sarah J. Donovan Writing with Ethicalela.com 5 times a month, and every day in April Writing with Two Writing Teachers at the Slice of Life Blog every Tuesday and every day in March Writing with Spiritual Journey Blogging group on Thursdays The Stafford Challenge – a poem every day starting mid-January Writing group book proposals | These columns will be shared as progress occurs each month or quarter. For starters, I am sharing my blog post on Slice of Life today. And just like that, I’ve taken a step into 2024 with a hobby that I enjoy. |
| Career and Work Life | Financial Strategies Retirement Plans Downsizing home, possessions Continuing Education Networking | |
| Spiritual Life | Church Life Prayer Life (OLW) | |
| Family Life | Weekly Dinners and game nights In Person Visits FaceTime Visits Group Texts Traveling together Celebrate Red Letter Days | |
| Mental and Physical Health | Reach top of weight range (I know this number) by June 1 and maintain it throughout 2024 Walking Hiking campsite trails |
My One Little Word for 2024 is pray. Today’s diopter word is step. As I pray for 2024 to be a productive and fulfilling year, I must step into it with purpose, and take the steps necessary – to do my part – to make it a great year.
My One Little Word of 2024
Last week, I presented a family member with a box of verbs to encourage reflection, guidance, journaling, and meditation on positive words and the actions they inspire. She used these words written on miniature Jenga blocks to select her One Little Word for 2024, choosing the word trust because she says, “It’s something I truly want to be able to do.”
When I think of selecting a word of the year, it’s challenging to choose only one. As a lover of words and all their nuances, it makes it even more challenging to parse out synonyms and all their shades of meaning. It’s like having that big box of Crayola crayons and being asked to choose one favorite color – – – only harder.
I really have trouble with that. I love the bright yellow sunshine, the crystal blue water, the spring green grass, the scarlet red cardinals, and the orange embers burning in the fire pit, glimmering with the heat like embers do. I want all the colors, and I want all the words.
Most of all, I want the verbs.
Not just any verbs. I want verbs that inspire positive action in my life and lead me along healthy paths.
After considering a few hundred words for 2024, I’m staying with my 2023 word for another year.
Pray.
I can’t think of a better word fit for me for the coming year. To pray without ceasing is to carry this word each day, each hour. On my way in to work each morning, I turn off the radio and follow the ACTS model of prayer, first offering Admiration, then Confession, then Thanksgiving, and finally Supplication. Mostly, I give thanks for the miracles of blessings received. But I also give thanks for the miracles of things that didn’t happen that I may never realize I was spared.
My friend Glenda Funk is taking the word care as her word for 2024. An article in The Washington Post encouraged her to choose a nudge word – a word that nudges her to live the life she wants to live. She writes in her blog post, “Care is a word I expect to push me to live the life I want to live in the coming leap year.” Fellow Slice of Life writer Sally Donnelly has selected the word prioritize, because she wants to keep the mantra, “Should this be a priority?” in focus as she chooses her path and all of her options.
When I read about all the words my friends choose, it gives me such joy when they share the reasons they’re choosing them. What is your One Little Word for 2024, and how did you choose your word?
A Visit to St. Simons (written on 12/29/2023 at 8:30 p.m)
We are visiting my childhood home today – St. Simons Island, Georgia, on the 8-year anniversary of my mother’s death from Parkinson’s Disease. Although the family house where we grew up has long since been leveled and rebuilt, so much of the 1970s decade is still ever present here on the island.
When I was young here, the Tastee-Freez was the place we’d go on our bicycles to get ice cream and hot dogs. It has since been a Dairy Queen and now a Frosty’s, but the original poster is still hanging by the door.
I also love my brother’s dishes, which were our family dishes in the 1970s. This morning, I used a smaller coffee cup and a saucer than I would normally use, just to eat from these dishes. The retro vibe is strong on the olive green pattern.
It’s a welcome feeling to walk back through the decades. As we go through years of memorabilia with our dad, my brother and I are reliving memories and sharing the stories. Even though the annual “family meeting” is sometimes uncomfortable with the details of how families move forward after losing a loved one, it’s also filled with plenty of time around the table, enjoying great food and laughing.
As we move into a new year, laughter is a word that I’ve considered as my One Little Word for 2024. It’s surely something that improves my whole outlook!
We’re missing Mom today, but we know she is close. As my brother and I were driving this morning, a hawk flew directly over us – – a sure signal that all is well in Heaven.
Break
Christmas break begins
this afternoon: much-needed
time to devour books!
The Best Present is Presence
I didn’t want them to leave, even though we go back to work tomorrow and most of our grandkids have another week of homeschool before they take their Christmas break. Sawyer is in 3rd grade, Saylor in 1st, and River in PreK. Beckham and Magnolia aren’t in their school years yet.
Aidan, the oldest and a teenager, lives in a neighboring county and attends a private school there. He has finally caught – and exceeded – my height. We’ve been back to back and heel to heel for a year now to see when the day would come, and it has happened!
Even though it’s far from our normal routine where we live with three Schnoodles, having part of our family come for a visit is a joy! They are a lively bunch, and they make us so proud!
We love taking pictures each time we all get together. Our daughter in law sets the timer and makes the run to take her place before the click, while we all watch the flashing light and say “cheese” on repeat until it stops. She’s an iPhone wizard!
This year, no one felt like getting dressed for a picture, so we didn’t. It was a rainy, cold weekend and we were busy staying warm and playing dominoes and watching movies and eating nonstop. So we opted for the reality photo, the one where you have to keep calling everyone to get outside and no one can pry themselves off the couch or chair they’re occupying. No one wore anything except pajamas with a coat or robe (and not the family matching kind with the coordinated Tartan plaid that looks planned and professional). A couple of us had shoes on, no girls had makeup on, and one or two of us might have brushed our hair or teeth. We simply ran out in the misty drizzle for a photo to mark the occasion.
This may be my favorite picture of us ever taken. When our grandchildren are grown and look back on these days spent with their grandparents, this is what I want them to remember – that we were happy just the way we were, and that we chose to savor every moment relaxing together at home. And that we didn’t need a crippling blizzard to know how to stay in our pajamas and drink coffee and chocolate milk all day and stay cozy.
It’s true: the best present is presence.
The Past, Present, and Future
Seven years before she died, my mother joined one of my daughters and me on a girls’ trip to Dahlonega, Georgia. My college roommate makes it an annual tradition to take her own mother and daughters to start the season of Christmas shopping the weekend before Thanksgiving each year, so we met them there that year, staying with them in their favorite Smith House suite overlooking the Dahlonega square. It was a magical time of welcoming the Christmas spirit, eating great food, playing dominoes and cards, reading, sleeping past 6 a.m., lingering over coffee, and shopping for those on our lists.
I’m so grateful for that time we had together. Mom knew something was different, and she suspected Parkinson’s Disease long before her official diagnosis came. Her right thumb trembled endlessly, and she found she grew weaker and felt increasingly exhausted in her daily routine, even with her normal daily tasks. I was glad our room was close to the town square so that she could go back and rest when she felt too tired to walk.
We were downstairs in one of the gift shops when Mom’s eyes lit up. She’d spotted the sale sign on Willow Tree items. I was curious about what she’d wanted from the selection, so I followed her over to the table, where she stood admiring the Nativity set.
She bought that basic Nativity set as my Christmas gift that year and added to it for the next several years, giving me a new part of the collection each year. At the time, I was thankful, but not nearly as grateful for that gift then as I am today. The memory of our time together lives on, and this is one gift that I truly cherish because it marks our trip and takes me right back to the place where she found the joy of giving this to me and building it over time. When I admire these pieces, she is right here with me. In this Nativity, I see the past, present, and future.
Allegiance to Gratitude in Braiding Sweetgrass
Earlier this week, I blogged about the increasing popularity of rage rooms and the owners who are purchasing vintage glassware, antique dishes, and grandma’s oil lamps to be smashed with baseball bats and golf clubs in controlled settings across the nation. They’re scouring estate sales for the dishes that families have gathered around for the last century or two, purchasing what folks can no longer persuade their children or other relatives to use in their own homes, and wearing helmets with eye protection as it’s all beaten to smithereens behind a concrete wall.
This may seem to some like a violent death of memory and sentiment. It may show disrespect to the items being smashed, from the artistry of the design to the materials used to make these things that have long held presence around tables feeding families or that have held oil to light rooms and keep aglow the faces of loved ones centuries ago.
Perhaps, though, the best chance of life these items have is in their recycling – – a reincarnation, of sorts, for things boxed up in darkness, locked away in storage, held hostage as prisoners of uselessness for decades, like the aging adult’s own version of the Island of Misfit Toys with nowhere to go and nothing to do but wait. A rage room may at first seem in direct opposition to the gratitude factor of thankfulness – but is it really any more offensive than attics full of items without purpose, kept that way by those who should value them most and keep their spirits bright?
As I drove to visit a family member having surgery two states north of me last week, I listened to Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer. The author herself reads the book on Audible, and hearing her voice is almost as pleasant as pausing every few minutes to truly soak in the meaning of her words from a new perspective – – and an important one. Similarly to the way Aldo Leopold reminds us of our duty to be good stewards with a strong land ethic in A Sand County Almanac, Kimmerer reminds us in her chapter “Allegiance to Gratitude” that every single item we eat or use comes at the cost of the life of a plant or animal. As good citizens, we should follow the guidelines for the honorable harvest of consumption, from the wood in our furniture to the food on our plates. Allegiance to gratitude is what begets abundance – not the collecting and storing of items that are not being used, because this disrespects the energy from Mother Earth to produce these things and invokes perceptions of hoarding: get all you can, can all you get, and sit on your can. Taking and using only what is needed is the way to be environmentally responsible for future generations. Having what can be used and fully appreciated cultivates a fuller appreciation of all of our blessings.
Gratitude has been a year-long spotlight word for me – – a goal word. It is fitting that in December, I am reading Kimmerer’s words with a renewed sense of gift giving. This year, we’re practicing a different gift-giving arrangement for my grandchildren. They’ll each receive something they want, something they need, something to wear, and something to read. We’re simplifying, redefining less as more.
We’re cultivating gratitude.
Common Threads 