This will come as a shock to some people, I am sure. But they will be the ones who don’t know me well, who don’t see the effort it takes to go outside myself.

Some people mistake shy for aloof or intimidating. Really, it is just another layer of defense. 

Sometimes, while in a group of people at a party or just people-watching, a feeling comes over me so close and tight it seems like a bubble. That no one else can see into or through, a little piece of time that I could almost fly through to another place or time. Away from this group or situation, into some peace or quiet place, a chance to regroup and recharge.

I try to grab that bubble, but I’ve never managed to hold it tight enough. I close my eyes for the smallest second, listen to nothing, but find myself in exactly the same place.

Such a comfort that bubble would be. Someday, I’ll grab it in just the right spot.

Which also means that I have been a mom for 15 years. Those baby days are so far behind me, it’s hard to recall what they were like. I see photos and am reminded of points in time, but the people in them (myself included) seem like strangers or maybe people I once knew.

We took the kids out of school for one day last week to get away early for spring break. The Girl Child’s high school frowns upon this sort of thing, calling them “unexcused absences”. Which I think is silly.  When it comes down to it, the trip we took will be remembered far longer than missing one day of school. And at this stage in the game, family trips like that will be farther and fewer between.

Time in these crucial years is running out and I admit to a bit of panic. What if I’ve been doing it all wrong?

There has been yelling. And impatience. Frustration. Waiting for the bad times to pass. Meanwhile maybe missing some good moments along the way.

A big regret – not enough hugs as the kids get older. My own fault, falling back into the routine I grew up with. I need to change that while I still have a few years.

But there has also been big love, even when we aren’t each other’s favorite person. Silliness. Saying I’m sorry. Encouragement. Growing inside and out. Tolerance and acceptance. Pride.

Fifteen is a tricky one. Just on the cusp, more adult edging out the kid. Needing to let the adult out to make decisions, letting her see where her choices take her while so wanting to protect her, especially in this crazy new world. It’s not my fifteen.

And it never will be. This is HER world now. I will still be there to cushion where I can, nudge when I need to – sometimes even a strong PUSH. But maybe the best thing I can do now is sit back and wait, spot her a little, and clap the loudest and proudest at her successes.

And I know there will be many.

Happy Fifteen.

photo booth, circa 1999

It’s about three hours away and I am looking forward to some ocean air and down time. Except for one thing.

I have to drive. On the highway.

I HATE driving on the freeway. I don’t even like to BE on the freeway. In my everyday life, it’s not so much an issue – I commute by bus, and living in the city means you can pretty much get anywhere by surface streets.

I don’t mind the actual driving, and I am not a bad driver. Unless The Geek is in the passenger seat – that makes me nervous.

But the freeway. Too many tons of metal going way too fast, operated by people too busy texting or talking to pay attention to the road.

It wasn’t always like this. Over college breaks, I drove from Kent to work at Bellevue Square. I can remember driving to downtown Seattle one time, too. But somewhere along the way, it became scary. A few years out of college, I made plans to drive to central Oregon to visit family. I made sure I left really early so I could avoid traffic, but it was still nerve-wracking. I’ve driven to IKEA a few times, a route with some crazy merges. One time a rain squall came through followed by blinding sunlight. By all rights, I should have hit something on the exit ramp – I could not see a thing.

The merging, especially, is stressful. I will scope out on-ramps that shoot you onto your own lane if possible. But that pales next to the I-90 tunnel. The few times I’ve had to drive that, I held my breath the whole time. And it’s not a short tunnel. It is very narrow – the margin for error is very small.

It occurred to me as the departure date approached that maybe I’m not the only one who feels this way. And lo and behold, it’s a thing! Freeway phobia! Lots of people have this problem too! Have to say that made me feel a bit better – that I’m not the only loser whose adrenaline kicks when the speedometer goes over 40 and you’re 4 feet away from big metal boxes.

I read some tips about writing down affirmations, getting hypnotized, hiring a coach. But what seems to be most effective is just doing it – getting on the road and facing your fears. No, I can’t control anyone else on the road. BUT I also can’t control anyone else on the bus or in line at Starbucks.

So Friday morning, I will load up my family and head south on I-5 at 60 mph. I will breathe slowly and deeply. I will make a playlist. I will load the directions on my phone. I will try to have faith that I can do this. (Maybe you could keep your fingers crossed, too? Every little bit helps.)

At least I don’t have go east through the I-90 tunnel. A girl has her limits. One thing at a time.

I hope the traffic looks like this.

I spent the past few days in a place where they have sunshine in March and it’s not 40 degrees, visiting friends in San Francisco and spending some girl time in the Napa Valley. It was lovely.

The Geek and I met these friends when we all lived in a four-plex on Capital Hill in the early 90′s. We were both newly married couples whose husbands bonded over motorcycles. Wednesday night dinners followed by 90210 and Melrose Place were a  weekly ritual. Then they had a baby, we had a baby, we all moved out of the four-plex, and eventually, they moved to San Francisco. Which is convenient for visiting, I must say.

This particular visit included a girls’ trip to Napa and Lesley, Larry’s sister. We rented a friend’s house in Napa, done up with some sweet mid-mod decor. We discovered there’s not much to do in Napa at the moment – the recession seems to have left its mark. Luckily the house came equipped with a firepit, which one can actually use in March in Napa. Many gin and tonics were enjoyed. We are old enough now that it was quite refreshing to be able to hear one another and sprawl on the ground, as opposed to having a cocktails in a bar.

The next day I got my first facial. So decadent, but still strange to lay still while a stranger lathers multiple ointments on your face. Looking I am sure a full 10 years younger, we toured a few wineries and made our way back to Napa for a tasty tapas dinner. I won’t tell you what time we turned the lights out that night – did I mention we are old?

Sunday night back in San Fran, we were lucky that it was warm enough to “stoop”, a Surrey Street ritual of cocktails and neighbors. No trip is complete without it.  Monday was spent in search of souvenirs, a mad dash my escort Larry was more than up for, before heading to the airport and back to reality.

I always love going to my second home in SF. The light is different there, some of it is familiar by now over so many years of visits. The people are the same, never seeming like it’s been months since my last trip, but everything is different from my everyday.

When things are stuck in your normal life, a weekend away is just the thing to shake things up – even better when wrapped in the arms of old friends. Around the fire pit, I was reminded that we all have our own problems, that nobody’s life is perfect or just right. Maybe bits and pieces, but nothing fits just right for anyone. Some of our problems are the same – we worry about our kids, we wonder if we are doing it right.

Really, though, we can’t know. Maybe someday we can look back and say, yeah,  I did OK or I should have done this different, but really, we are all just doing the best we can. Having great friends along the way smooths the road, eases the roughness. And for this I am grateful.

But it’s good to be home.

P.S. Still not missing Facebook.

First up is the Seattle Tilth Early Edible Sale, on March 16th. A new location this year, it’s being held at the Pacific Market Center Parking Garage, which seems to be somewhere in the Stadium area of town? Sadly, I will be out of town for this year’s sale, but the cool thing is there is a plant list on their site so you can drool and plan your purchases! And if you’re lucky like me, a nice friend will offer to pick some things up for you if you can’t make it.

The Arboretum Foundation’s Early Bloomers sale on April 13th. This is a smaller sale of Arboretum members’ donations and plants propagated from the Arboretum collection. Good stuff.

The next day is the NW Perennial Alliance’s Spring Sale,  a personal favorite, this year on Sunday, April 14th at North Seattle Community College. No veggies but chock full of other unusual stuff.

Then there’s the big daddy of FlorAbundance, another Arboretum sale that benefits the Arboretum. This sale is JAM-PACKED with good things, edible and otherwise. April 27 and 28 at the Arboretum (in years past this has been at Magnuson Park in a giant hangar. Not sure how they will make it work at the Arboretum – I would think parking would be an issue so plan ahead!)

One of my favorite sales is the Master Gardener Foundation sale at the UW Center for Urban Horticulture, this year on May 4th and 5th. Psst: in years past, they’ve done a preview party the night before the sale opens. You buy a ticket (whose proceeds go to benefit the Foundation) and they give you wine tickets and appetizers AND you get to shop before  the hordes on Saturday and Sunday. Totally worth it and very fun. Tickets are usually sold on Brown Paper Tickets but I don’t see it listed yet.

Also that weekend is Seattle Tilth’s big Edible Sale. I must admit I’ve never actually gone to this sale because by the time it rolls around, I’ve been to 3 sales and I’m tapped out space and budget-wise.

AND! For those of you in Seattle without the space or inclination to grow your food, consider becoming a member of my friends’ brand-spanking-new farm, Mezza Luna Farms!  They are offering CSA memberships for their first harvest this year! A great way to buy local and eat well.

Special thanks to Jennie for my new plant sale accessory!

We have lived in this house for nearly 5 years. As has been previously mentioned, it is small. There are two storage closets – one we use for linens, and the other for everything else. Well, besides the massive piles of stuff in the garage. Ahem.

The catch-all closet has been mostly disgusting for those 5 years. It was previously the home of the furnace, and so is long and narrow, not very accessible for the retrieving of things that lodge there. We tended to merely pile new things on top of old things and hope for the best. (Shutting the door really fast helps, too.) It has shelves running the length of one wall, a strange hole to nowhere and a really nasty floor.

Finally, I’d had enough. It was embarrassing and a big waste of space when we have no space to waste.

So. I sprung this plan on the Geek, perhaps unfairly. But I really thought it would be an easy project! While he was at work,  I started excavation. (Here is where you squeamish types may want to scroll down. And disregard that rogue sock.)

Yep. Uncensored. I know. So bad.

Note that disgusting floor.

By the way, that orange stuff is cough syrup. And this is what it looked like nekkid.

The Geek tore down those shelves and it was off to Home Depot for paint, floor tiles and pegboard/baskets! It took several coats of primer and paint to cover some random stains, and though I do wish I’d gotten a different color now, I can live with it. It’s clean at least.

Check it out!

New floor tiles! No more hole to nowhere! Fresh walls! Baskets for everything!

Look at that! A sunscreen basket! A tooth care basket! Household odds and ends! Nail care! Seriously, I just stood there and gaped at it for a good 5 minutes. And I made my dinner guests do the same.

I think to really optimize the space I need to get one of those wire baskets that slides onto a shelf, to go on the lower shelf. But damn! Big smooches to the Geek for doing the floor and walls.

This might just be the motivation I need to start tackling the garage. Fingers crossed.

poppy

yesterday’s raspberries

blackbird, i believe

black brussels sprouts

newborn rhodie

light to come

I am excited for days where we can tire ourselves digging and planting, feeling the new heat of spring sun. Civilized cocktails in the fresh air. Shorts and bare feet.

Even more so this year I think. We attended the memorial for a long-time friend  and bar regular on Saturday. He was only 57, and had battled melanoma but lost. His family had a chance to say goodbye properly and maybe get a head start on getting used to the idea that he soon would be gone. The memorial was sad, yes, but also such a celebration of his life. His art was on display and many friends and family shared such great memories of him. I think the joy and love in the room made the sadness so much easier to bear. It was a gift to be there.

A reminder that time is short. Use it well.

Sometimes I go to grab them, but they swim out of focus, or I grab something meant for another bit and can’t make it fit together. Forgive the chaos.

What I mean to say goes something like this.

A longtime friend died too young last week. I am now in the thick of teenager parenting, floundering more and more each day. In the midst of this is middle age – surely I cannot be old enough to be dealing with teenaged offspring – was I not just one?

So it goes like this, bouncing from one thing to another. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes holding my breath til the next ball rolls along. In the flat bits and even better, the good bits, I am storing up little things because I know nothing stays the same. I will need these good bits again one day, and it may come sooner than I think.

I am banking things of comfort. The soft feel of flannel sheets on bare skin. Guests in my house. One-on-one conversations.

The value of a friend, old and new. A few extra dollars in the bank account when usually there are none. My family’s voices in another room on a Sunday night.

Matching socks. A well-made martini.

Candlelight.  An overgrown yard and garage full of possibility. My cookbooks.

Hearing “Mom” and realizing that means me. Running a business that means something to people.

This place, where I put some words and sometimes people read them.

Now that we’ve survived the Holidaze and things are pretty much packed away until next year, I can catch my breath a bit.  And consider 2013.

This isn’t the first time it’s occurred to me that there is entirely too much screen usage in this house. Especially by certain junior members of the household. This became glaringly apparent over Chrismtas break.

They are now completely unable to occupy themselves if there is not a screen of some sort in front of their face. If I told the Boy Child to give the Xbox a break, I’d find him in his room. Watching something on his iTouch. (Normally, he’d be watching YouTube videos of video games, but the iMac is having a rough time of it lately.)

I would not be one bit surprised if webbing hasn’t begun to grow over the top of the Girl Child’s iPhone from her hand. She checks that thing CONSTANTLY. She claims she is multi-tasking.

I am not innocent of this crime, to be sure. BUT I am able to find other enjoyable things to do. I actually SEWED over break. And last night, while muting the gunfire on the Xbox, I READ THREE MAGAZINES. Have to say, it felt great. Peaceful even. I only looked at Facebook like twice, I swear.

So I hereby resolve to be the heavy and institute some sort of screen-free time, for their own good. The Girl Child used to like to write and make art. The Boy Child does enjoy playing Magic, but he needs to find something he can do alone if necessary, to use the rest of his brain that doesn’t involve pushing buttons. We will take a trip to the art store for fresh supplies and see what happens. Hopefully, a little more well-roundedness.

Also more veggies, more exercise, purging, yada yada yada.

But mostly looking forward to gaining some fresh space in the brain for more making and doing things, not just watching other people do them on TV.

Happy 2013.

Now is when the fear of not buying/making enough or not equally distributing the loot takes over. The budget has long been busted. The spreadsheet is seemingly in a foreign language. Then I let it go, say it will just have to be good enough. And it usually is.

But then I SWEAR that NEXT YEAR I will not find myself in this predicament. I will plan better, further ahead AND STICK TO THE PLAN AND THE BUDGET. For real. (Perhaps I should look in the archives – I bet I reminded myself then.)

Eh, the gifts are what they are. What REALLY causes panic is not getting all the baking done. I am woefully behind in this area.

Made so far: Santa’s Whiskers and Doris’ Ginger Cookies. There will be brioche cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning.

NOT MADE: Russian Tea Cakes, Sugar/Gingerbread Cookies. Matzo Roca. This is unacceptable.

Tonight I will try to crank out some fudge. But that doesn’t even begin to cover the things I’ve been wanting to make for YEARS and can never seem to get to. I wonder how much I can cram in 4 days.

Arkansas Fig Fruitcake?

Reindeer Feed?

And the holy grail: Stollen. I have several recipes clipped and long saved.

Next year I vow to bake and make all these things and SEND them to friends and family.

None of those things matter though. IT WILL NOT BE CHRISTMAS UNTIL “A CHRISTMAS STORY” AND “HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS” HAVE BEEN VIEWED.

I better get busy.

Happy Holidays! I hope you get a moment to relax and enjoy friends and family. What it’s really all about.

Though cookies are nice, too. And egg nog with brandy…