"It's only stuff"

These are my Grandma's Ladles. Circa 1950? They have that awesome vintage design on them-perhaps it's called a mid-century-modern Atomic Starburst? In my home we refer to that star-like shape as "dings". The sound effect from a commercial when your floor would sparkle after using a special product advertised. Back when it was still okay for a woman to feel accomplished if you made your floor sparkle.

The designs back then were "futuristic" or what was imagined the future would look like. Think- 'Jetsons' and hover cars. In that era, there was a general feeling of promise and hope for the future. There was pride for a job well done, and hard work was respectable; not something you suffered through if you weren't wealthy or smart enough to hire someone else to do it for you.

My Grandmother was a hard working woman. She had jobs in factories and cleaning hotels and also quite often when the money would allow; she got to be "just" a Mother and Wife and Homemaker. She was an amazing cook and seamstress. She taught my Mom how to sew and also tried (unsuccessfully) to teach me. My Mother died before my Grandmother. The greatest gift I ever gave my Grandmother was my son because he was her living proof that her legacy would live on. He was that part of her, that part of her daughter, to continue on in the world.

So- when Grandma died, I couldn't keep all her furniture, all her stuff, because I already had all my Mom's stuff. I kept Grandma's photos and I kept her ladles, and the coffee pot with the 'dings', and her dishes. I didn't have room for much more than that. I have so many things.....

I know that these are just things- that the things don't actually contain the memories. I know that the memories are still there if the things are gone. But in the same way you can hug your Mom or Grandma to make yourself feel good and safe- I only get to hold these things. So I want to always have them. And I want to give these things to my son so he can hold these things.

Eventually the idea came to me to have these 'dings' on my body- near me, like a hug, but forever. I knew exactly where I wanted them, and how they would look on me and how it would feel to have them placed on me. I was ready to get the tattoo with the only exception being that I didn't have any discretionary income to buy a tattoo. I knew when I got some "extra" money, what I would do with it.

I sometimes work in a big building with individual private offices and at the end of each floor are two bathrooms. Early in the morning, as I walked into the women's bathroom, I found a hundred dollar bill on the floor. I picked it up and checked to see that it was real. I checked each stall and there was no one else in the bathroom. I walked the entire floor and there was not a single person in any office. I walked back to my office and wrote a note- "If you lost something in this bathroom, please call to identify and I will be happy to return it". I taped the sign to the bathroom door and waited all day for a call that never came. When I got off work I called my tattoo artist and said "I found a hundred dollar bill on the bathroom floor- do you want it?"

I love this tattoo so much. I think it is pretty and very fitting for the area and I love that it is my ladle tattoo that I found on the bathroom floor. I know my Grandma and Mom didn't share my love of tattoos, but I feel that somehow they gifted this tattoo to me anyway.

I still love having the ladles- and the other "stuff" that I can hold in my hands and pass on to my son. I hope to raise him to be the kind of person who knows his history and values hard work and taking care of irreplaceable things.

We are moving now, into the first home that we own as a family. I have been packing and sorting and letting go of a lot of 'things'-because I can't take it all with me and I don't want to be a hoarder, or pack rat. We have been in our rented house for 8 years and have acquired a lot of stuff. But there are still so many things that I don't want to get rid of. Like the ladles. And the dishes. I decided to quit waiting "till I grow up" to use Grandma's dishes. After all, I am 42 years old and I would derive so much pleasure from seeing and touching her things every day. So I pulled the dishes out of the attic to assess what I had and prepare them to take to our new home.

When I picked up the box it rattled like an evil maraca. When I opened the box, this is what I found:

The sadness that came over me was so overwhelming. I know, they are just things. I know it shouldn't matter. Yet, I feel so sad. Adding to this sadness is the fact that TODAY is my Mother's birthday, and I can't buy her a cake or give her a hug. I can't eat from her mother's plates. Almost the entire set is broken- completely broke and damaged beyond repair. Even looking at that photo makes me feel like I have been punched in the stomach. So- I have been crying on and off, over some stupid "stuff". Silly, right? I still have the memory of my Grandma- what I don't have is the idea that these things of hers were safe in my attic and there for me some day when I was grown up and ready to use them. So my advice to anyone who will listen, is: DON'T STORE THIS STUFF! Use your nice things and hold your loved ones close and hold their things often. I would have rather used these for years and eventually accidentally broken each one, than to have found them all as a broken pile of dishes to use when I grow up and deserve nice things.

And now I am consumed with this idea that I should ignore all my moving and packing obligations, and forget my financial responsibilities and go get this pattern from one of the few unbroken dishes tattooed on my body. After all, what better day than today- since it is my Mother's birthday.

I hope as I get older, I continue to have things of beauty all around me, things I can pass on to my kids. Things they will hold and enjoy and most of all- use daily. Things that will be helpful to them, not just to be packed and stored and eventually broken beyond repair.

Perhaps as the rest of this day unfolds, I will miraculously find tattoo money on the ground.

Sorry Grandma.

Happy Birthday Mom.

Baby Baby, please let me hold you. I wanna make him stay up all night.

This is little Ryder Layne.

Feet and non-knuckles

Lips

Eyelashes like curtains.

Halloween

I have always loved Halloween. When I was young, all my costumes were "home made" - a clown, a hobo, a witch. Back then you could buy a costume in a box- like at K-Mart and it would have some weird mask with a string on the back and some thin nylon outfit that you would wear over your regular clothes. But, in my family, we always made our costumes, so I was always envious of the kids who got those store bought boxes:

Now I'm older and I think back to how amazing my costumes were that my parents would create after I imagined them. My Dad would build race cars out of boxes or my Mom would sew a dress and make me a tin foil crown to go with my cardboard and glitter wings.

My son Chris has had nothing but store bought costumes ever since he was old enough to say NINJA! First he needed to be an all black ninja, then a black and red ninja... I loved how he would move around the house all ninja-like once he put the costume on. I loved that it made him feel so special and his imagination was so vivid. I wanted to create the costume from "scratch" but he needed to be like the other kids, he needed to be the ninja he saw in the store, on the mailers that came to the house, Halloween has always been a blast, but secretly inside me, I wished just once that during the school costume parade, he was not one out of many ninjas- I wished he had the experience of building his own costume, figuring out how to create something of his own.

So this year, I asked him what he wanted to be for Halloween and he said "a NERD". I asked if he saw a picture of a nerd somewhere or an ad for a costume and he said no, he wanted to make it himself.

Oh yippee! Hurray!

He had it all planned out in his mind, and we went to several thrift stores to get the goods. I can't sew, so my friend Vania helped with the hemming and dork-ifying of the pants. She also fixed the suspenders so he could keep his pants up super high. Another friend helped by locating and ordering bow ties and pocket protectors because I wasn't having any luck finding these things at thrift shops or office supply stores. It takes a village to raise a child they say, and it took a village to help me help my son make his costume. Thanks Ladies!

Chris was the only nerd that looked like him at the school parade today. I was happy for him and he was super proud of his outfit. I got teary eyed because this will be my last elementary school costume parade I have a family member in until I have grandchildren. I was also a bit teary eyed because I was reminded of my costumes as a child, and how they were always different than everyone else and how that made me feel uncomfortable. I cried becasue my son felt special and unique because he was different than anyone else.

Happy Halloween everyone!

The cutest dork I've ever seen.

Pennance or Funism participation?

I guess I felt guilty for laughing at "the people of wall mart" website and emails that have been coming around. Maybe I just saw an opportunity to participate in some Funism? Perhaps my friend and I were just waxing nostalgic for when we were in our 20's and we would dress up to go do our laundry?

No matter the inspiration- we went in full "OMG" "WTF?" costumes to Wall Mart to see if we could make it on the website. We have submitted our photos but haven't made it yet, so I thought I'd just share our attempt with the blog world for now.

Do something FUN today-

Chalk Can't Hurt You

I love chalk art. I have worked in this medium for years- sometimes going to the beach after midnight to create covert chalk murals for the people. I also lived for years on a busy street, with a big blank wall between my home and the traffic- this wall was my canvas. The police would occasionally come by, but then leave me alone when they found out I lived there and it was only chalk. (I eventually wrote "It's only chalk" so that people who drove by would not be afraid or offended) My neighbors would leave chalk on my doorstep, so I knew they approved.

I try to never write political or religious statements, only positive, colorful statements to keep with my idea of "FUNism". I often steal slogans, but I think I read a quote by Pablo Picasso that said "immature artists borrow, mature artists steal" so- that's my excuse. The art is mine, the words aren't always, and I hope if I wasn't able to "steal" the words, that I at least made them worthy of being borrowed.

The last day of school

Yesterday (Wednesday) was the last day of school for Chris, so naturally, on Tuesday night we went by the schoolyard and scattered more "crystals" as well as a dozen bouncy balls on the schoolyard.

I must say that I experience sheer joy as I throw all those colorful glass treasures over the fence. Chris and I laugh as we feel like secret fairies scattering pixie dust across the grass. I feel an even deeper sense of satisfaction, when on the afternoon of the last day of school I get an email from one of the teachers that says:

I wanted to let you know a little boy from our class found a crystal on the grass at lunch. It couldn't have happened to a better kid, as he has a tough time at home AND at school. I told him it was his lucky day and it must mean he is going to have a wonderful summer. I wish you could have seen the expression on his face... total excitement!

Hurray for us!

Mermaids

Mermaid tagging is not a competitive sport, but if it was, my friend Kacie would be the winner.
Having just introduced her to the concept of toy tagging last night, she caught on quickly, and managed to place this pink mermaid on our friend's shirt- without our friend even knowing!
I took a photo with my phone before someone told her she had a mermaid hanging from her blouse.
Way to go Kacie!

Mundane errands in my day are just more fun when I am leaving tiny treasures everywhere. The local grocery store is full of mermaids and no one knows- Chris and I look up at the places where we put them days before to see that they are still there! Eventually, when the employees do some dusting or re-organizing, they will find them....in the meantime, Chris and I giggle every time we shop, and leave more mermaids.