I look at this picture, and it still doesn’t seem real that he’s gone, or that it has been 6 months since he died. In some ways it seems like a lot longer, and some it seems like the time has flown by in the blink of an eye. In some ways, it makes sense, in some ways it still doesn’t click that he’s gone. Some days I still find myself planning to call him. Habits, I guess.  I don’t know that losing a parent ever gets easier, it just gets to be different than it was.

Sunday was the first time I have gone to visit my Dad since we laid him to rest in June. I don’t have a good excuse for not visiting. The cemetery isn’t that far. I just haven’t made it. Work, life, baby, everything has kept me busy, and I really didn’t know what to say.  We found his spot, and I stood there, and cried. I didn’t have any words, just an outpouring of emotions. I missed my Dad at that moment so much, I grieved for my loss, for Isabella’s loss, my mom’s…I just hated that he was gone.

When he first died, a friend of mine said, “It doesn’t ever get easier, it just becomes different”. The happy memories start taking over the bad. I still remember how frightened he looked a few weeks before he passed away- wild-eyed and panic stricken as I tried to find any facility that could take him. That is slowly fading, and his happy dance that he did when I told him I was finally pregnant is replacing it.

I was, and still am, so fortunate to have had an amazing man as my Daddy. He was smart, artistic, funny, and brave. He put others before himself and his safety. He taught me to love travel and to rebel against a stagnant life, to seek out happiness, but not at the expenses of others. He tried to teach me to not take myself so seriously (something I am still working on), and to concoct odd food combinations (kipper snack ramen, anyone?? No?)…He gave me my huge hair, and my love of 80’s music (hmmm…the two go well together), and to help those less fortunate than myself.

In short, he made me who I am today, and gave me the traits that I hope to instill in my child.

Again, I still miss him so much, and I loathe the PTSD that took him away from us too early, but I am so lucky to have had him in my life as long as I did.

Here’s to you, Dad. You’re still so, so missed and always loved.

Raina

How’s THAT for a title? Impressive, right?

Its been a big week, and it will continue to be a big week, so let’s recap it out!

Turkey Day happened, and it was good. If you haven’t checked out my other blog, you should-I posted a crazy delicious menu that included wild game, mushrooms and gravy. Oh, and bacon. You can’t have a holiday without bacon. You could, but that wouldn’t be very tasty. For more on what I ate and ongoing bacony homage, go to: blackberrysage.blogspot.com.

With Thanksgiving comes giving thanks. I am pretty darn lucky, and have a lot to be grateful for. I look back at where my life was a few years ago, and give thanks every day for what I have now. Is it easy? Not always. Is it frustrating? Sure, but whose life isn’t? Are there things I would change? You bet your sweet bacon I would. But each of those moments, the good, the bad, the heartbreaking have led me to where I am in life. What matters is that I have love, shelter, food and a career that allows me to make enough to travel and support my craft and food habits.  You can’t ask for much more than that.

And my ever-growing mid section. Izzy is due in just about 6 weeks. “They” say that this is the time where everything slows down and the last few weeks start to drag out. So far, I haven’t seen that. Things are flying by, and my impending mommy-hood is starting to freak me out. I have so much to do at work, and here at home, that 6 weeks (and that’s a ball park, folks; I am a weebly-wobbly time bomb!) just doesn’t feel like it is logistically enough time to get it all done.

What you don’t always hear is that this is the time that shit starts getting real. You’re going to be a mommy. You’re going to have a little life, living outside of you. That’s some amazing stuff to wrap ones head around. I have to admit, I am more worried that something will go wrong in these last few weeks than I am about having the tiny beast here. So many people that I know have had issues, so many late-term miscarriages have happened. These are the things that pop into my head when Izzy hasn’t moved in a little while. I don’t know how many times I have drank cold water and jumped up and down to wake her up, just to be comforted by feeling her move (yes, I do realize that is more than likely super annoying). So I am torn between wanting to keep her in me as long as possible to get as much done as I can with the opposite drive to get her out of me so I can see her, and protect her, and not just have to trust that my body can get through these last weeks. Oh, and don’t even Google cord complications. You won’t want to sleep, or want to roll over. Yep, welcome to the crazy. So between that, and the constant soundtrack of Europe’s “The Final Countdown” running through my head, its a wonder I am ticking things off of the list. Meh, it’ll all get done.

And the week in store! Phew. Work, and more work of course; baby class tonight (more than half way done!) and lots of Art Events this weekend-South Park Arts Under $100 Art Sale and Urban Craft Uprisings Sale are both Saturday, and I’ll be hitting them both.  Should be a fun time! 🙂

Caving in…A few posts ago I mentioned my disdain for getting my picture taken in a studio. In realizing that I could make this a Christmas present for my mom, I caved in and set up an appointment to get “portraits” done. All in all, it didn’t suck, and Nick came with me. Less than 30 mins and a little bit of money later, I have cute Weeble Wobble pics and will be able to give my Mom just what she wanted all along. I’ll consider this a win for both of us. And I am pretty sure I win Mom of the Year points, since I insisted that Izzy only get one set of monthly pictures done.

Lastly, Thursday is the 6 month anniversary of my Dad’s death. I can’t believe that it’s already been 6 months. In some ways it feels like it was a lot longer ago, but in some ways it still feels so recent. I’ll have another post on that in the coming days,  but just wanted to call that out, since it’s also been on my mind.

So I think that is it-bacon, gravy, crazy, busy, art and family…Sounds about right!

How’s your week looking folks? Hope fabulously!

And on that note…I leave you with…Europe! This is going to be stuck in your head forever.  The video can’t be beat-that hair, the explosions, the synthesizers?  Pure 80’s awesomeness wrapped into my maternity theme song.  You’re both welcome and sorry.

Cheers,
Raina

I have a fascination with facial hair. Men should really take more advantage of the groomy-goodness as there are so many possibilities!  I came across this site in an attempt to not get actual housework done, and thought I’d share:

http://www.dyers.org/blog/beards/beard-types/

Read on, and enjoy the facial-hairy goodness!!

Yours in lack of facial hair,
Raina

I don’t know if this quite falls under the “relaxation” category, but Nick and I adopted a new fur baby. We’ve missed having a pup around the house so much, and we found a little guy who needed adopting!   Kip was chucked out of a car and abandoned in Eastern Washington a few years ago and has been in and out of foster care for a few years. He’s been living with a great foster Dad for about a year, but he just hadn’t found his forever home. We found him a month and a half ago on petfinder.com, but we just weren’t sure if we were ready. We missed Mia so much!

A month later, we saw he was still there online….still looking for a home. We knew we wanted a pup in need, one who wasn’t your typical dog that everyone wanted (i.e. a puppy).  We started the interview process, to find out that he was adopted. We were happy to hear he got adopted out though!

A week later, we got an email from his foster Dad-he had been returned-it just didn’t work out, and the back up family never even came to meet him.  We were up! After many emails and phone calls, we opted to drive out and meet him. It was love at wiggly first site. On the drive over the pass to meet him, I joked that I wanted to give him the nickname of Kipper Snack. When we met him and his foster Dad, we learned his nickname had been Kipper. 🙂  It was clearly a good match! He was pretty shy at first, but he integrated quite well, and has been doing amazing ever since. He’s great with kids, babies, adults, and crowds. He’s a big fan of the dog park, and snoozing on the couch!

We’re so very lucky to have found this little guy, and we can’t wait to give him many, many years of love, snuggles and adventures. Now, without further adieu….Kip!

The first pic is of his first day home with us. You can see, he’s pretty nervous. That didn’t last long. Less than a week later, he’s stealing antique quilts to snuggle under. Can it get any more cute?

I am so lucky. I have great fur babies, great friends, and family. Here’s to all of us finding our happiness, fur-covered or otherwise!

Raina

I really don’t have any other better title for this blog than that. Date night went from watching the Seattle Sounders to this:

Yep. I got a fabulous trip to the ER. D’oh.  I did get a snazzy preheated blanket to snuggle under while I waited for tests and to have a fetal heart rate test done.

I had originally thought I was getting a bladder infection, which to any care provider means you’re probably going to blow up, or some horrible thing. I had also been feeling run down after a few long weeks at work. Izzy had been pretty quiet most of the day, so that had us worried too. After a call to the consulting nurse, we opted to go into the ER and get a check up done. Turns out, I was fine, and the reason I felt like crap was that I simply do too much. Doc’s orders:  Sit still. Relax. Let others help you more.

Basically, everything I suck at.

So I have orders from the nurse, the doc, and Nick, and countless others to do nothing. Sleep in, relax and slow down. I have stopped making new to do lists, and am trying to not do everything baby-related right now. It’s super hard.

Here’s to trying though!  This weekend is set up well to hanging out. I have a book sale to go to, and a baby shower tomorrow. It should be a good weekend. I’ll keep you all updated on how that whole sitting still goes. It’s now day two, and I am still in my jammies, so I guess that’s something!

How do you guys relax?

Raina

I hate getting my picture taken professionally. Any time this issue comes up, I instantly turn into a 5 year old, having a screaming ninny fit. The brakes go on, and I am just not having it. Why you ask?

My mom worked for Olan Mills when I was little. She worked there for years, in multiple states, which meant I got my picture taken damn near for free, and pretty much constantly. I lived in the studio (ok, it probably wasn’t THAT bad), but after thousands of pictures and what I am pretty sure is years worth of time spent in the studio, and even working there for a stint, I won’t set foot in any photo studio.

Let me give you some reference of what I had to go through and why I can’t stand getting my picture taken:

At first, it’s cool. You’re a baby, and clearly clueless. See that? I have no idea that the next 17 years will be filled with this and similar backgrounds. I’m giddy. Possibly medicated, who knows what’s going on here!

 By this age I have mastered the art of the forced grin. I had not, however, figured out how to hide my bucked teeth and bad hair and clothing choice.

 After a few years, my mom started letting me do my own hair and pick out my own clothes. I don’t know that I did any better, but that smug closed smile says that I won the battle by choosing my Bon Jovi necklace, Native earrings and half can of aquanet hairspray.

It was cool though, as this was our holiday picture. This was after HOURS of photos being taken. See that glazed look? Almost as awesome as those Bart Simpson boxers I was rocking. Yep. I so lost this war.

But I was not to be out fought. I brought back-up, namely our portly teacup poodle Odie. I made faces like this in almost every picture I could. I also did my own hair and make up. This was 7th or 8th grade and close to the end of weekly picture events.

So, why the ode to Olan Mills torture?  All my years of fighting to avoid a studio have caught up to me, and have come to a screaming halt.  My mom wants me to get “maternity pictures” done. If possible, multiple photos, from multiple studios, so I can later revel in my belly days, where I can look back and go “awww, look how I look like a Weeble Wobble!”

Sigh.

She isn’t letting up, and isn’t throwing in any bartering chips. In fact, she’s threatening my unborn with picture packages for the first year of her life. She says, if I just get my picture taken while pregnant, then I only have to bring Izzy in once a month to one location to have her picture taken. So I am stuck in a quandry…throw my kid under a bus, or buck up and just get the pics taken. Hard choices, people, hard choices.

Left to my own devices, I would escape to a small foreign country with suitable healthcare. But since I am being forced to do this, I did threaten a pic like these:

Her response? “I don’t care, as long as you go. You’ll thank me later.”

I don’t think I will, but I will have a good reminder of why I won’t drag Izzy through this crap.

So here’s to you, on this election night. I hope you got a laugh and some relief from the tension, but also a damn good reminder of how bitter you can make your kids by taking thousands of strange pics of them!

😉

Raina

10 weeks.

So yes. 10 weeks. 10 fast moving weeks and I’ll have my little bug here and I’ll have yet another thing to be grateful for. So with that, I’ll leave you with a few recent pics of us:

It’s fall here in the North West!  The air is crisp and cool and the leaves are turning. This is my favorite time of year. It’s the time of the year for sweaters, and boots and tights, warm cider, chai tea and scarves.

In short, this is my favorite time of year!

The change in seasons, makes me want to do even more crafts, light the fireplace, and snuggle under a blanket with a good book. It makes me want to cook warm cozy meals and go for hikes.

This week and weekend will be spent doing just that!

Today, I picked late harvest blackberries for jam; I’m cooking lentil, sausage and chard soup for dinner, and I’m planning a weekend picnic with Nick, too. I can’t wait!

With the change in seasons comes the desire to get things done, and to that, I have started a new food-blog! This gives me a little separation for this blog, which was intended for crafts and my home projects.

If you’re hungry and looking for ideas, please feel free to follow my new blog- blackberrysage.blogspot.com.

Yours in fall snuggliness!
Raina
“But then fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.”  ~ Stephen King

Someone asked recently if I was nesting from all of the prep work I have been doing for the arrival of Isabella. I can just shake my head. This isn’t nesting, that sweet, beautiful, heartfelt work that’s done to lovingly welcome your bundle of joy into their new home.

Oh no, this is warfare. I am on a Rambo style mission, guns blazing to rid my house of all of the crap that I have accumulated over the past 34 years, including the junk from my family, the junk from my exes and anyone else who made a pit stop long enough to leave something here on their way through.

Yes folks, hand me the cammo paint, and the holster, cause this means war.

I am currently in the living room, surrounded my boxes, bags, and piles of random crap. All of which is part of my master plan to gut my house. My living room looks like a hoarder-y bomb went off, and I am pretty sure it’s all going to go:
1. In the trash
2. In the recycle bin and
3. To goodwill

After cleaning and organizing for weeks on end, I am tired of organizing things into smaller piles to be sorted and filed away, going gently through each old card, letter and random thing. I think I just need to cut my ties and get rid of it all. Thank goodness the whole weekend is ahead of me and I can just plow through it all!

What’s your tip for getting rid of things you’ve held on to for far too long?

Today was a mixed bag day. I found out the mother of two men I have known for close to 20 years passed away suddenly. In speaking with one of them, he was lost, unsure of what to do. I remembered that feeling so clearly. It was after all, less than 4 months ago that I lost my own parent suddenly.

It’s that paralyzing moment when you realize nothing else will ever be the same, but you don’t know quite what to do. So you sit.

I did the best thing I could think to do, which was to send my love and offer a home cooked meal when he was ready for it. I let his friends know, so they could help. The core group of guys I used to hang out with are all over the country these days. It was nice to catch up, especially with those I don’t text or talk to very often. It was nice to hear how they are, and how life is better for them since moving away.

It was also a reminder of how much happier and at peace I am than I have been in years. There’s no pushing, no hoping, no waiting. Just being. Sometimes that paralyzing moment when something happens, good or bad, gives you pause and makes you re-evaluate your priorities. You don’t know what to do, or how to react, so you just stop. And you sit.

And eventually it gets easier, and your path to happiness becomes much more clear.

I hope that path is a fast one for my friends.

I am also reminded how lucky I am to have my little Isabella Grace. There was a day when it was like a switch went off. I was no longer angry at my past, the failed relationships; the hurt didn’t matter, being happy with my new life was all that I cared about. I didn’t know why, until a few weeks later I found out I was pregnant. I have been really lucky to have her-through the passing of my own parent, the loss of a beloved pet. She’s been my saving grace through this, hence the middle name, Grace.

Today, I miss my father, feel sorrow for my friends, and am so appreciative of the life I have now. Here’s to you, and chasing your bliss, comforting those who are hurting, and for all the good that life has to offer, no matter how hard it is to find.

Raina