What We Leave Behind

It's interesting. When you start over, you give yourself the ability to start with a clean slate. It's the perfect time to change bad habits and create new good ones. Time to make new friends, learn something new, change your address and wardrobe. I've done it many times, mostly with my job, but also relationships. At first glance, people think I have commitment issues, in a way I guess I would agree, but not in the way you would think. I have a problem committing to spend the rest of my life doing something I don't like doing, or staying with a partner who doesn't know how to treat others well and who doesn't respect me as a human being. 
However, after 10 years, I have a completely different life than I used to. The people that were in it then are no longer in it now. The people that are here now are ones that I have chosen to be a part of my life, not just by default. In taking life less seriously, I have made very serious decisions on where I am and where I would like to go. Mostly, everyone knows what town I grew up in and that I loved the farm and gardening and can't wait to get back to "it". What they don't know are all the things I had to give up or have gotten away from to get here. Now, I am choosing to bring some of those lost items back into my life.

One thing that strikes me at this moment, as I sit - crafting on a very expensive wool area rug that is now covered in glitter - is that unless you were at my wedding, you probably don't know that I make silk floral arrangements. I mention my wedding because it was my biggest project. I created two large pieces for the alter at the church, two small bouquets for our grandmothers, all the bouquets and corsages for the entire bridal party, plus centerpieces for 20 tables. People spend thousands of dollars for a florist to do the flowers for their wedding and I was able to do it all for a few hundred dollars and several hours doing something I love to do.

I'm reflecting on this now, because by going to work at the craft store, I was given the chance to work with one of the most amazing skilled florists in the area. He didn't work there, he was a customer. He would come into the store about once a month and to look for new inventory, if he found something he was inspired by, he would grab a vase and start filling it. He stood right at the floral counter next to me and swoosh, clip, bend, tweak and flourish until he had a stunning masterpiece in front of him. It was thrilling to watch him take simple branches, stems, grasses and berries come to life before my very eyes. He explained the structure, sizes and quantities along with color and placement. All his techniques, hints and secrets, mine to absorb. My duty was to collect all the tags as he ripped them off and threw them on the counter so he could pay for it on the way out. He always walked out with a completed project and it was always an amazing experience for me. I asked him one day what he did with the finished pieces, he said he would run by the mall and sell it to one of the stores or drop it off at one of the nursing homes in the area.

That was in 1996. I left that job and heard later that the man had passed away. As I sit here, listening to music and creating a simple arrangement for Christmas, I think of him, wondering if he really knew what he left behind and think it's pretty cool.

MY INNER FOODIE

My food Epiphany... "I don't like food. I don't like cooking and cleaning. If I didn't have to eat, I wouldn't."  This attitude is a RESULT of a few things, but mainly from processed packaged fast factory food we have learned to eat. I NEVER ate like that in my parents home. It's time consuming to cook from scratch when you are out of practice, feed someone who doesn't really care or doesn't help and don't have the tools or space. For most of this year I have been trying to find my inner foodie and I'm still working on it. Food, in my family was a process we all enjoyed and did together. It was melt in your mouth, drizzle down your chin, sticky, sweet, love and laughter served on a plate. We always helped Mom bake, stir, chop or set the timer. Dad was always there too to chop, grill, do dishes or just try and get in the way and cause mischief. We all took turns "flipping the records" and playing with the cats who were both sprawled on the floor watching it all.
When I moved out and created a home of my own, I tried to continue the tradition of cooking, but it slowly has dwindled and died in a box of Mac and cheese alone. No wonder I fell out of love with food. Nothing had the flavor of homemade, the spirit of the process was gone and it all sat like a lump in the pit of my stomach. In the holiday spirit last night, I made cranberry bread for the first time in many years. With a pile of fresh, crisp cranberries, the heat of the oven and warm bread sliced with fresh butter- I REMEMBERED.

SWF...

I am the proud daughter of a NH native old yankee farmer and a German immigrant farmer, dont get any of us started on equal rights.
Growing up, my Mom made sure we had the best that they could provide, in a rich town. We didnt have name brand anything, but we had lots of love. Dad was a self employed landscape designer, who was also the best bud to hang with and climb all over. He taught me how to sweep the floor in the barn and how to nail a board without hitting my fingers. Mom taught me to cook, clean and sew. Hard work is what I do, no matter what the work. My passion for plants and growing my own food came from both of them, my favorite "sweet" snack is still tomatos off the vine.
People used to ask when I was going to put my talents to work for me. My answer was always the same, "what talent?". Just because my walls are lined with my own photographs and paintings and my beds and couches are lined wih handmade blankets, my favorite fleece jacket is the first garment I made when I got my first sewing machine, I dont consider it talent. I consider it life. I cook because I need to nourish myself and want to know what is going into my body. What I do isn't because I spent years in a classroom behind a stack of books. What I know is "real time" experience, I'm a doer, the fancy term I guess is DIY. Well, of course I am. Thats how I learned everything I know. My parents handed me a paintbrush when I still needed a step stool to reach the window sill. As I got older I thought I needed a partner to work on projects like that. Its always how my parents worked, side by side with the help of me and my sister. It wasnt until a coworker and friend encouraged me to engineer a solution to any problem myself and become self sufficent. That was 10 years ago. Where ever he is now, I still thank him everyday.

Last week my current relationship of three years came to a screeching hault. I'm not sure exactly how it all happened, call it lack of good communication and been-there-done that situation. Self respect made the words come out of my mouth. We're done. I immediately told my family and close friends, so that my heart wouldnt let me apologize and go running back. After a few days Mom said she was proud of me. My response was, I learned from the past. I wasnt going to go through the agonizing pain of packing and moving after having said goodbye.

Just 2 years ago, I picked "my town" where I had no past and only the future to look forward to. I got myself a job and after a few months picked up and moved there. For the first time in my life I did something for myself. Something I wanted but also to protect myself. This time when my relationship ended, I just had to hold my head up and put my feet on the floor again the next morning. My girlfriend said I do breakups "well". Ha. Nope, what I do is protect myself from disappointment as best as I can. I cant please everyone I encounter in my life and there are bound to be disappointments but one thing I have learned is to walk away from people who dont appreciate or respect who I am as a human. I consider myself fairly scientific and know all things are made from energy and truly believe in the law of attraction. I created Sistah Sunshine to boost my own positive energy. In 10 years, I have transformed myself. People who meet me now will not under stand what Ive been through to get where I am, mentally and physically. People who knew me then would probably say Im still the same crafty free spirit Ive always been. Only my closest friends and family know the truth and saw the struggle and talked me through the tears and sadness. They say better to have loved and lost then never feel love at all. As much as it hurts, its the truth.

I know what real love is. I have been fortunate to have experienced it my whole life from my family, and did see it in the eyes and hugs of my lost relationship. I am hardly a perfect person, just ask my mom, but I am finally learning how to be perfectly "ME". My intention is to enjoy right now, right here, right where I am. I love my home, friends and job. I plan on spending more time on these so-called talents I have and exploring new ones. I know I am a good person and have come to accept myself just the way I am. I also know I am caring and giving and capable of a loving lasting relationship, as long as I am honest with myself and them. I also know there is someone out there who may have been through a similar set of circumstances, understands what I've been through, respects me and appreciates and encourages who I am. I just haven't found him yet.