Bestest Friends

Last night I took a break from sewing and dove into another thing I like to do: painting. I made a collection of painted wooden dolls for my girls almost two years ago. I call them Bestest Friends Dolls. They still love them.

I have probably two dozen of these little girls in various stages in a drawer in my sewing desk. I pull them out when I want a new project. They're made of a single wood turning. I hand paint them using non-toxic paints and finish them with a non-toxic varnish.

One thing I love about these girls is that each one is completely different from another. Though some are similar.

I love the rainbow of color on their dresses and the varied hues of their faces. Each is diverse, something that's hard to find in a lot of mainstream toys.

The new three I am almost done with only have eyes, not mouthes. My girls aren't too sure if they like this or not. I think it's great, that way they can decide the feelings of each as they play.

They're by no means perfect. It's tremendously hard to paint teeny on rounded surfaces, but I did my best and am pleased with each for their own reasons. It makes me happy to give my kids the variation in their toys. I hope it will blend into their lives. That they'll see the beauty in every person. That, while they might not look the same as them, they'll grow up to have a bestest friend.

The Beaches

I'm a little late on the topic, I know. I have a tendancy to not read the paper or watch the news. Ever. I knew there had been an oil spill/explosion/whatnot but never looked into the details. I just couldn't, I can't. I'm sorry.

I'm trying not to be like that. But it's hard.

There is so much bad in the world. Not just talking about this crisis but everything as a whole. Most of the time I just can't take it. The death and destruction roar in my ears. It makes me want to run for the hills (or at least my little piece of land) and cut myself off from humanity. Shelter my kids under a cloud of unawareness and live out my life in ignorant bliss. It's wrong, I get that, but every fiber in my body still wants to.

I posted a photo of the beach we went to in March. A beach that might not be safe to use soon. A beach that's white sand won't be white, the water not that wonderful deep blue-green. It'll be barren of little bare feet and much more. So, so much more.

I'm not a beachy person. I don't enjoy laying in grit, cooking cancer into my skin. The vitamin D I absorb I'd rather get from being hunched over in the front yard, digging in the Earth. But that doesn't mean I don't want the beaches and waterways.

The other thing that worries me about this whole thing is how it will impact the already precarious situation we have with our Florida Manatees. While the ones in the photo won't have to worry, the others do. Cordelia's favorite animal is the manatee. My favorite quote of her's is "I wish I was a mermaid, so then I could marry a manatee." Which one of you would like to break the news to her when they're wiped out?

It's such a mess. Everything is so twisted; I don't know how to extract myself from the sticky, oily web. It makes me want to rethink our entire plan for the farm, driving me to drastic measures since it seems the little ones I try and enforce daily aren't making a difference. I want to chuck out the car and live without central air. I want to scream at people that drive, single person in an SUV and use those stupid little plastic produce bags at the store. There is a problem without a clear solution. It drives me nuts. My whole emotional framework is exacerbated and intensified. Put on a sharp edge of fear and uncertainty. Which is the entire reason I stay away from watching the new and reading the paper.

There isn't much I can do right now to fix this particular problem. I think a lot of people are just holding their breath, waiting to see how bad it will get. Rob might get called up for Emergency Guard to help our state in whatever way he can. Others are starting to mobilize. The only thing I can do right now is pray.

So, please, please, please, whatever God there is where ever it lives and however it's called upon, let us fix the beaches.

Slow Lunch and Yoga

I had my first low impact yoga class today. It was great! I love the instructor and the methods of the class. So, peaceful and centering. I pushed my body just enough to stretch the sore muscles. I could feel my body asking for more but I held it back, too worried I'd injure myself more. But the want is there, deep in. If I continue I can see myself getting really good. It made me want to start the free weights that are sitting under the couch again.

After, I headed to the store for a few things. We were out of real butter and fruit and I thought I'd grab lunch. Looking over the aisles I decided I wanted a Havarti and Arugula sammich. mmmm. With basil mayo. oh, yeah. So I grabbed some rolls from the deli, though they were out of wheat they were fresh baked today. Then strolling through the produce I went to get the lettuces.

Hey, I said to myself looking at the $3.29 bag, I can get that from the front yard.

Next on the list was basil for the mayo. Hey, again self, I said,  you have that too. And the tomatoes you need. Almost everything I needed for my lunch was sitting in my front yard. I could have made the bread and cheese too but it would have taken too long and I was hungry today.

On my way in to the house I stopped by my front yard grocery store and pulled off what I needed for lunch. The feeling that I didn't need to buy, the thought that I really could do this myself permeated through me. With a little planning the cheese and bread could be mine too. Mine. Something clicked inside me. Completing, maybe?

It was just such a perfect way to end the morning after the wonderfully gentle workout and delicious lunch I -mostly- made myself.