Why Art Matters: Church Windows

Dave’s Uncle Jerry passed in July, and we traveled to Port Huron for his service. It was a sweet and tender send-off. 

What gave me solace were these tiny windows that flanked the altar. Knowing a little bit about the art of creating stained glass windows, I was charmed by their simplicity and their whimsy. How many children have passed a sermon staring at the balloons, or made up a story about that butterfly? 

I certainly don't know the stories behind these windows, but I'd like to. 

Typing Out Loud: Maybe It's Me

Do it for the boy.

I'm having some high school angst, and I'm 36 years removed from my own graduation. 

I'm having mom-of-high-schooler low self-esteem issues.

Scenario one: I took two days off to help with band uniforms. I was good enough at it that we got the seniors, juniors, and all but two of the sophomores fitted in on Monday. I had to work Tuesday, so I had Wednesday free. I get a text message that I was not needed on Wednesday. 

"Not needed" set me to anxious. Why was I not needed?

OMG, calm down...

Scenario two: The next week was Dave's turn, and he planned to be there all day, every day, for a week. I was going to show for lunch and dinner to help do dishes, clean up, and help with snack duties. The benefit of this was free lunch and dinner. One day, I show up for lunch, everything was already taken care of, and I was invited by the lunch lady to have lunch. 

I was gently chastised for taking lunch when I wasn't volunteering, which was said to me as I was putting dishes away, asking the crew for something to do to earn my keep. A slight misunderstanding that my head made a mountain out of a molehill. 

Drama much?

Scenario three: dropping Will off to perform in the local parade, I asked casually if I could help. I was ignored completely while they were whisking around doing this and that. So I left. 

The parade was nice. 

I found solace in pitching in to help with athletic boosters, first cleaning the concession stands, then selling spirit wear at the community celebration event. Low risk, no drama, even gave me time to walk around with my family to see and do things. And I'm holding out hope that the cheer moms will be welcoming. 

I don't know, people are too busy to be running around massaging my ego, but some friendly inclusion would be nice. Or maybe I need to step aside and let all of this be about Will and Pia - it does not have to be about me. 

Well, the cheer moms HAVE been welcoming and now I'm one of the athletic board booster representatives for cheer. Be careful what you wish for! 

Secret Life of Objects - Navy Silk Dress

Just one more wear?

Putting laundry away and picking a dress to wear to a wedding, I pulled my lovely and loyal navy blue silk out. 

Where’d I get it? The clearance rack at Old Navy well over 20 years ago on a work-free afternoon when we lived in Saint Louis. 

It has survived this long because frankly, I was too fat to wear it for a couple of years. I put on weight struggling with fertility and then again after I had Will. It was a New Year's goal back in 2012 to be able to wear it to my class reunion in November, and I was able to start wearing it again by May. 

The hilarious "That door is a liar!" situation with Jill.

Hanging with Rob, I'm looking especially cute if I do say so. 

It’s effortless chic, a simple A-line with a slight ruffle at the neck and cuffs, the fabric is light and floaty, and it drapes but doesn’t cling. It dresses up with nice shoes and jewels or down with sandals and sunglasses. Falling just above the knee, the length is neither scandalous nor frumpy. 

It still fits, but alas, the fabric is wearing thin and discolored in the armpits, no matter how carefully I have hand-washed and air-dried. 

Twenty years, clearance rack, it doesn’t owe me a dime, but I can’t seem to part with it. Maybe a new effortless “it” dress will allow me to let it go. 

What’s Right in the World: Matching Sapphires

Affordable luxury. 

While at a wedding reception, a shy dinner companion happened to be wearing the same sapphire necklace as I. Cheerfully, I pointed out we were twinsies. It was apparent from her accent English was her second language and she didn’t understand at first what I was saying. I was also shouting over the DJ. I pointed at our necklaces and said we matched. 

She smiled at me radiantly and said, “Oh thank you for noticing, it’s the only fine thing I own. I cherish it.” 

This threw me for a moment. I was in a room full of beautiful people, a scene straight out of Crazy Rich Asians, with guests decked in expensive gowns and jewels. And then there’s me; while I am no Hilton or Kardashian, I still had my pick of many wonderful clothes and adornments to choose from for the occasion. 

I love and cherish mine too. 

We weren't able to have a conversation, she seemed self-conscious and didn't seem to know anyone else there, a plus one, the guest of a guest. Our thing in common was the necklace and being in the same place at the same time. Still, she made me recognize that I have more than one fine thing to wear, appreciate, and cherish.

August Song: Get that Shirt

The inspiration: pelted with a PotatoeBabies t-shirt at Festival.

Goal: write a song a month, with the resolve to not self-edit or worry if it’s crap. I shouldn't have to work hard at this, it’s summer. And we finally went to our first PotatoeBabies show - it was Dead Kennedys meets B-52s.

Get to the show early,

Space on the rail.

Leave the pit to the kids,

Thrashing? I’m gonna bail.

Get that shirt - get that shirt

The roadie just threw it out

Get that shirt - get that shirt

The crowd jumps and shouts

Air guitar paper airplanes

Toilet tissue gun,

Hit with a box of cereal?

This is so much fun.

Get that shirt - get that shirt

It hit me in the head

Get that shirt - get that shirt

Blue, black, or red.

Dancing in the heat

"Jump jump" the rally cry

Insanity rules the day

Punk fans ride or die.

Get that shirt - get that shirt

Some kid just got a bike

Get that shirt - get that shirt

Pink ice pop - the kind I like.

Get that shirt - get that shirt

It might be too small for me

Get that shirt - get that shirt

It’s my favorite price it’s free!

Secret Life of Objects: Afghan Rescue

That's a lot of blankets. 

I belong to a Facebook group called Weird and Wonderful Secondhand Finds. In it, members post images of, well, weird and wonderful things they have found while thrifting or at yard sales, and last year, there was a month where people posted nothing but crazy afghans they found. It was at that moment I fell in love with the artistry, the craft, and the colors. 

During that same time, I rescued a crocheted afghan for fifty cents, and Oscar admired my work. When I prepared a Christmas box for him, I threw a thrifted chevron blanket in the box for him. His mom messaged me to say he has slept with it ever since. 

I stumbled upon an opportunity to rescue one blanket this year, and it morphed into the piles you see here. Since it is Secret Life of Objects (SLoO), the story for these afghans is that they have mostly been acquired from Hersey's House of Hope where you pay what you want, a couple yard sales, a couple gifted by my friend Cherilyn, and two that were quite literally rescued from FREE piles by the side of the road. Currently, I am up to 24 with a goal of 30; however, I hit 24 so quickly, I might see if I can get to 40. 

So what am I going to do with them? Adult skaters are always looking for unusual tossies for competition, so it's Operation Afghan Rescue. I have washed, dried, and sanitized them, and these are going to be my competitor gifts for AN24. And I dunno, there's one in the pile that I just may have to save for myself. 

Edited to add: as of 7/31, I made it to 30! I'm going to dial it down, but if I stumble upon some lovelies that need rescuing, I'm gonna do it. 

What’s Right in the World: Called Up to the Show

OMG, it’s happening!

Press pic at his locker.

I’m a little nostalgic.

Wish we were there for this - his first major league hit. 

He’s accumulating highlight reels - this catch then how he avoided a double play. 

So there I was, happy with my afghan rescue haul, sweaty from the heat, and about to tuck into a turkey and tomato sandwich when I decided to check the spotty internet to see what was going on in the world. 

And there’s the tweet: Dane made it to The Show. 

I gasped and Will asked me what was wrong. I showed him and said, “Dane got called up!” A huge grin spread across his face as I started to cry. Dave was napping and we both went in to tell him the news. 

I texted Rhonda and Mallory for confirmation and yes, it was true.

We texted our congratulations to them and then to Dane who shared his thanks for our support and his love. 

He didn’t get into the game on the third but he did on the fourth, and boy did he, going two for three. Next day another two-for-three. Next day, two-for-four, and a spectacular play in center against the wall - the Marlins calling him The Great Dane. 

We agree.

To have witnessed all he’s gone through since he was drafted in 2017 and for him to still flourish… good for him. He deserves every bit of positive press, every accolade, every highlight, everything.

I don’t know the protocol now for following and cheering. He’s family to us, but he belongs to his fans now too. I’m sure he’s getting inundated with people vying for his attention. We will always be there, time to gingerly step to the side and allow him space to enjoy this. 

Of course, then he hits his first majors league home run and we pepper him with more congrats. 

C'mon Andre, it's your turn.