Rightness in the Mundane

I don't know if he always did it, but for as long as I can remember, my dad wore the same "uniform" to work almost every day. Jeans and a button-up shirt with a white t-shirt underneath. This meant that my mom seemed to be folding white undershirts every single time she did laundry. I can clearly remember helping her fold while we sat on the floor of the family room watching something like The Cosby Show or Family Ties. She never complained that my dad wasn't there folding his own t-shirts, she just took care of what needed to get done and then moved on to the next thing.

I thought of my mom this past week when I found myself creating a stack of Mr. W's undershirts. It was the middle of the day; he was at work; I could hear Barefoot Contessa making something for Jeffrey in the other room. I felt like a strangely merry housewife.

I didn't feel resentful that I was helping with his laundry—something that's become a pretty regular task since he's been working such long hours. I felt almost appreciative. Don't barf, I know it sounds strange and a bit like something a Stepford Wife would say. 

But in that moment, I recognized what might be a similarity between our relationship and my parents': a mutual desire to take care of each other and help the other one out, without expectation. That's how it worked in my house growing up. I don't ever remember my mom nagging my dad to do things or getting mad when she had to do things for him. And the same went for him. They had established a beautifully choreographed dance where they gave and received in unspoken harmony, paying back and paying forward year after year after year. They celebrated their 48th wedding anniversary in February, by the way.

The gratitude I felt while folding that stack of Hanes came from knowing Mr. W and I might hit a marker like that one day if we keep up the dance like my parents have done. And it came just from knowing that if those were my shirts in the dryer, he'd fold them for me, too. He's done it many times.

He wrapped his movie last Thursday, so (for awhile at least) he'll be home with me during the day now. I will still fold his shirts if he needs me to. And although I've given him a few honey-do's to tackle during his hiatus, I know he'd probably take care of stuff all on his own.

We might learn some new give-and-take dance steps being here together every single day. Hopefully we'll both be able to continue finding gratefulness as we go about our little lives.

Taking Inventory

When I worked at the coffeehouse in college, one of my oh-so-important managerial duties was to handle the weekly inventory of pastries, coffee, to-go supplies and retail goods. My parents had purchased their very first PC at home, so I laid out spreadsheets on the computer and took them into work to make my task more official and efficient.

Sure, there were days when we would find ourselves devoid of blueberry bagels, or running to the store for more dijon mustard, but for the most part, me and my sheets kept everything well stocked and running smoothly.

Last weekend, I found myself thinking of those old days as I pored over our pantry contents and wrote up my grocery list. Again, I am the taker of inventory. With Mr. W working such crazy hours, it is my sole responsibility to make sure our kitchen runs smoothly.

But how about our marriage? Should we have an inventory checklist there as well?

I think the answer is Yes.

Next Monday is our one-year anniversary. I can't believe how quickly the year has passed, yet when I think back to that special day, it feels like an eternity ago. And when I open our relationship cupboards and start tallying up the contents, I'm happy to say we seem to be balancing supply and demand quite well.

If I take a step back and look at an even wider perspective of my life, I can see that I'm also amply stocked when it comes to family, friends, free time, creative projects, house projects, and new dining experiences. The travel column could probably use a couple more tic marks in it. And although exercise is happening regularly, I could certainly do more—particularly because my circle of activity every day exists within the space between our driveway and backyard. Money could use a little restocking, as well, but right now I'm willing to trade smaller checks for bigger chunks of downtime.

Just as the coffeehouse depended on me to keep it filled and functioning, I think I have a personal responsibility to keep my life full and humming with the things that make me happy. I'm the only one who can see when supplies are running low, and I'll only notice if I regularly complete my inventory sheets. Thankfully, I've learned how to keep track of them in my head instead of having to deal with those pesky Excel documents.

Right Under Our Noses

 Southern California seems to think it's summertime right now. We've had temps in the high
70°s—even up to 83° last Thursday. Everything in the yard is budding and blooming like crazy.

I felt like the Universe was throwing us a big old life lesson this weekend after I missed our bi-monthly produce pick-up because I was at a taping of The Bachelor. Mr. Wonderful and I belong to a Community-Supported Agriculture program in Silverlake CA, so every other week, we get to fill two grocery bags with a variety of gorgeous, locally-grown fruits and veggies. It's an awesome program and makes us feel like we're doing right by the people who farm in the area. 

 Mr. W bought this nifty heated seed sprouter to help us get a head start on our spring/summer
garden. I'm hoping we get loaded with homegrown goodies. And that we're in the country so
we can enjoy them...

When Friday's taping ran so late that I missed the pick-up window, we weren't only out $24, we were lacking a fridge full of produce to sustain us for the next couple of weeks. Huge bummer. Or so I thought until I walked into our backyard Saturday. As I looked around, I realized that I could find what I needed right under my nose.

 

 The carrots got a little stunted but what they lack in size, they make up for in quantity!
We roasted some last night and they were delicious.

I made multiple trips from the yard to the kitchen,  ending up with carrots, cauliflower, broccoli, broccoli leaves (which can be cooked like kale), spinach, tomatoes, and even a few spindly lettuce leaves.

 We left the cauliflower on the plant a little too long so it was flowering, but we roasted and ate it
anyway and it was just as good as it would have been in a tight white bunch.

 We'll pick this little guy before he goes to flower. Hopefully he'll get bigger between now and then!

 My sweet precious tomato plant has not let us down once since it sprouted. Every week—
even when the weather hasn't been great—he has delivered. I'm totally buying him an engagement ring.

 I was shocked when Mr. W told me we were already getting little grape babies.
Hopefully we'll be able to eat some this year. Last year they got a bad case of mold.
Good thing we weren't planning to make wine with 'em!

 We picked all the spinach to make room for new plants next weekend.
I think the earwigs will be very sad to see their salad bar go.

 Although its numbers have dwindled from the first planting, Mr. W's dream lemon orchard—grown
from contraband lemon seeds he smuggled back here after our honeymoon—continues to flourish.

 I hacked off and relocated this big mama agave after it gave birth to SEVEN offshoot babies. Mr. W
has had this plant since he moved to LA 17 years ago. To the best of my knowledge, it's his only
teenage child.

 We barely had enough pots for all the babies. I wonder if eventually, we'll try to harvest
some agave syrup to use in place of sugar.

 The bees are loving the early spring flower outbreak. I'm loving how good the local citrus trees and
jasmine plants smell. It almost makes up for the severed heads around town.

It's funny how sometimes everything you want is right under your nose. Or right outside your back door. You think you're lacking and then you look around and suddenly see you have everything you need, exactly where you are. 

I was already feeling grateful for this realization when the Universe hit us with another unexpected bounty. Saturday afternoon, an organization in the area was picking fruit from Hollywood Hills citrus trees to supply local food banks, and after they took oranges from our house, they came back with this lovely thank you basket filled with an assortment of treats from the neighborhood.  

Somehow I think that $24 we were out on Friday came back to us in our lucky abundance of backyard and neighborhood crops!

Spreading the Love

It may have been the residual effects of reading about Janice's Nurture Project back in November, or possibly the adorableness of this pillow on Etsy:

But I got it in my head that this year I was going to make some homemade Valentines and send them out to a handful of single-ish girlfriends. So last Friday morning I busted out my wicked craft skills and got to work making these:

I know how much I enjoy receiving cards and letters in the mail, and I just wanted to give that feeling to a few others.

Sadly, my Valentine-making skills were put to use again later in the weekend when I chose to participate in an "I Care" initiative that my hometown put together. On Friday afternoon, a 15-year-old boy took his own life on the campus of my niece's high school. The same school where my siblings and I went. The same school my mom graduated from in its very first senior class. My heart broke for the boy, his family, my niece, my school and my beloved town.

In an effort to do something to try to ease the pain, a card-making program was born. The cards will be delivered to the high school's students and alumni today.

I made a dozen.

Assembling both sets of cards got me thinking about how important it is to let people know you're thinking about them all year long. As commercialized as Hallmark is, I appreciate how they've encouraged us all to regularly remind one another that we care.

I hope the people who open my cards know I do.

Happy Valentine's Day, blog readers.

Holiday Cheer

 Of course the yearly cookie-making tradition with my dad generates buckets of
holiday cheer. We especially enjoyed his misspelled Fedex truck cookie this year.

Despite the fact that I'm job-free as a bird these days, I've not been impervious to the stressors of the holiday season. It's so easy to get caught up in the shopping and planning and frustration of waiting in massive lines, and lose sight of all the good things going on around me. But recently I've seen so many examples of goodness and humanity, I just had to talk about a few... 

Secret Santas paying off layaway tabs. I saw multiple news stories about this and I just fell in love with the idea. Kindness from strangers at a time when people will appreciate it so much. So touching. 

The new game show You Deserve It. In case you don't know the premise, people go on the show to win money for someone else who they believe deserves it. I watched part of an episode where a woman was playing to win money for her mother who had raised not only her special needs sister, but also taken in a special needs foster child. Very cool.

This post by Janice. It's all about taking people on as your "nurture projects." What a wonderful idea, huh? Sending love and kindness to people who really need it. Letting them know someone is thinking of them. Adore this.

The couple who found and returned $23,000. They were on The Today Show this week, telling the story of how they found the money under a mattress in the new home they purchased—and subsequently tracked down the previous owner's son to return it to him. Their karma rating just went through the roof.
  
 
The early Christmas present Mr. W gave me tonight.
The little Vespa looks just like the one Mr. W and I motored around Capri on during our honeymoon. But the one I got is better because he painted "Capri" and "2011" on its sides. The best part is that I almost bought him a yellow scooter magnet as a stocking stuff. Typical that we would have the same idea...


The fact that my oldest niece asked on Thanksgiving that we do less this year and give money to charities instead of buying presents. Oh, how that one always makes me proud. She's going to save the world one day. I decided to adopt orca whales through National Wildlife Federation for my cousin's kids. The money is going to a good cause, and the kids were overjoyed that they're now "whale parents." I did a few more things, but they're top secret until Christmas...

What's warming your heart this season? Have you seen any shining examples of humanity in your state or city or family? Lay it on me!

***After seeing Nilsa's comment, I need to clarify that the Vespa is a Christmas ornament! Not a real scooter!***

I Should've Sewn Capes for All of Them for Christmas

I discovered this picture of Montrose on Flickr. Taken by cjanebuy.

When I walked into the restaurant last night, there were 12 adults and 8 kids crowded around a series of pushed-together tables. My entire immediate family, plus some in-laws, had gathered to dine on pizza then walk through the town I lived in for 8 years before moving to Hollywood with Mr. Wonderful. This little city was partly developed by my maternal great-grandfather, and it's the place where my beloved grandma lived from age 2  into her 90s. To say I adore Montrose isn't enough. It's my village. The place of my people and so many of my memories.

Though we lost a few members after dinner, there was still quite a group of us tromping down the main street to take in the holiday decorations. My brother was pulling my youngest niece and a friend's daughter in a wagon decked out with tinsel and Christmas lights. I joked that we should all start caroling.

But as we crossed the main intersection, my Mom said to my brother, "Oh my gosh you need to go help that lady!" On the other side of the street, an older woman in thin pink sweatpants was on her knees, struggling as two passers-by tried to get her back on her feet.

Immediately, my brother (a fireman), my dad (a longtime wannabe fireman/cop/superhero) and my cousin's husband (an artist who is very tall and strong) dashed across the street. My brother knelt on the ground, easing the lady back so she was resting in his lap. My sister (a nurse) darted over to see if she could help, too. They think the woman may have had a small stroke.

As I stood on my corner, watching the scene unfold, I was overcome by emotion. There was something about seeing my family rushing to the aid of a stranger that nearly brought me to tears. I don't know if I've ever felt more proud of them. They are such good people.

The fire engine and medic truck arrived and my sentimentality quickly passed as my cousin went to work on a rescue of another kind. A woman had approached us and asked what happened and when my cousin turned to respond, she noticed a spider on the lady's collar. "I'm really sorry but you have a giant spider on you!" she said, swatting furiously at the woman's head.

We laughed about it the rest of the way down the block.

It's pretty neat to be part of a family that's not only an asset to me but to the entire community. My grandma would have turned 97 this coming year, and although she's not here with us anymore, I know she'd be so proud to have her brave, strong children and grandchildren standing together, doing such good on her streets of Montrose.