I'm Max!!!

Further thoughts on Harry Potter

*There is some information in this post about books 4 & 5. Nothing that would spoil them, but information nonetheless.

I was ruminating a bit more on the bravery shown in the face of fear throughout Harry Potter. In their most terrifying of accomplishments they usually survived on sheer nerve. Harry used all the resources he had and faced the fear. The one point of weakness for Harry was in his mind.

I would rather face a dragon than face what's going on in my mind. At least the dragon is straight forward. "Accio Firebolt!" I would cry, then see where my wits would take me. Hopefully I would survive, but it's a dragon I'm facing and let's face it, I don't really know how I could prepare myself beyond the survival instincts I was born with. You might be able to store a few tricks up your sleeve, but in a case like this you're just going to improvise then it's done. Pretty straight forward.

In the mind you have to grapple with things you can't touch or strangle. One of the hardest books for me to read is The Order of the Pheonix, because it has so much to do with the mind. Harry's scar prickles then his mind is assulted. He can't detach himself from it. I don't know how you can. My mind is always at work and sometimes it feels like it's working against me. It's as if I have my own Lord Voldermort spinning lies and deliusions that I (for reasons beyond me) believe. It is this mind of mine that creates obstacles and fear. How do I fight my own mind?

I either need to learn Occlumency (does any one know how to do this?) or fight by other means; with the love in my heart and the memory of those who care for me.

Greetings!

Yesterday I finished reading the Harry Potter series for the second/third time. I actually finished the last book on Friday, but it was just too hard to put that seventh book back on my shelf. So, I re-read the last 200 pages slowly, soaking in all the wonderful details.

It's become quite plain that I am in awe of J.K. Rowling. Her stories are so intensely filled with imagination and heart. I cry and shout in triumph right along with the characters. Neville Longbottom is by far my favorite character to cheer onwards and I often throw my fists up in victory as he accomplishes something he once thought out of his reach. By the seventh book I am utterly filled with pride as I read about Neville and his dedication to the people he cares about.

Yesterday as I put the book back on the shelf, I felt a real sense of missing. I felt apart of the story and with it gone, so went that part of me. In the story they do sometimes foolish and daring things, but always with a drive to either content their curiosity or to work out a solution to fight the darkness invading their world. I was challenged as I looked at myself and realized how often I am discouraged by the simplest obstacle and often give up as I pursue my curiosity or drive to ward of the darkness in my world.

I say this often, but I will say it again--I want to be brave. I want to go beyond the obstacles. I want to do the things that frighten me. I want to be able to throw my fists up in victory as I face my fear head on; kicking, punching, and screaming at the fear if need be.

As Seen On Mt. Tabor

• A large man riding a scooter sized crotch rocket.
• A mid-twenties surfer boy on a long board hanging out with a forty-something woman in a leopard print leotard on roller blades.
• A man that looked like Dr. Emmett Brown (Back to the Future) riding his long board (I wished it was a hover board--but I guess they don't take those out into public yet).

Cannon Beach

Dave and the ocean

Molly and Kate

Artistic shot of me

Artistic shot of Dave

Molly finds a seashell!

Molly, Alexis, and John walk in the big bath...

Yoda Likes Grass.

Yoda occasionally makes the great escape. These rare adventures into the wild come after months and months of sneaking around by the door and waiting for a moment when we slip up and leave it open for a second too long. His small head has almost been smashed by the door because his speed didn't quite match his desire to be outside (poor thing).

On the rare occasion that Yoda does get outside, he is really cute to watch. He'll stare at the sky for long lengths of time; smelling the air and basking in the glory of sweet freedom. He rubs his face in all the plants and chews on grass. He'd probably be a great cat for Wendell Berry.

In an effort to make living inside more appealing to our not-so-street-savvy cat, I went to the Portland Nursery to purchase grass. The place is so monumentally huge that I had no idea where to even begin looking for edible grass. I wound up stalking one of the Portland Nursery employees until he noticed me and asked if I had any questions. "Yes," said I, "Do you have grass that my cat could eat?" He told me that there wasn't any in the potted section but that they had some Cat Grass (or Oat) seeds in the main building.

Cat grass??? Grass just for cats? You betcha! It even boasts of being good for them and reducing hair balls (which it has). So, I purchased some seeds and planted them. Now, every morning Yoda gets a grassy treat and a small taste of the great outdoors.

Pizza!

I'm in a "do-it-myself" stage right now, that I probably should have grown out of when I was 5, but whatever. This stage has lead to making weekly loaves of homemade bread, a clothing line of my very own, and some other great revelations that I can do it myself!

To your left, you can see with your own eyes, a beautiful pizza. This pizza was not delivery or Digiorno for that matter. It was made from scratch, dough and sauce.

It's not the perfect pizza, yet. I need to let the crust cook longer before I put the toppings on and the sauce could use a little tweaking, but aside from that it's good to eat. And really, what else can you ask of a pizza?

Quilted T-shirts

A few months ago I went through my closet in an effort to downsize. It's always hard for me to do this. I'm a sentimental person and as I pull out clothes that I've had for what seems like forever, I tend to think back to "that summer when" or to that person who gave that piece of clothing. It's these thoughts that make me put t-shirts I haven't worn in ages back in my closet.

I had four such t-shirts that had made it through round after round of elimination. Each of these t-shirts had been worn and washed so many times that the cotton knit had broken down, leaving the fabric softer and more pliable than when it was originally purchased. It takes time and dedication for a t-shirt to make it to this stage and I just couldn't part with all that effort easily.

In a moment of great inspiration a solution came to me. I could make them into something else. I pulled out the t-shirts and noticed that their colors went well together, which meant I could cut them up into pieces and sew them back together to make a quilted fabric. I also thought that it would be wonderful to have a skirt made from this soft material. So, I went to work.

I cut the t-shirts up into 5x5 inch pieces, then sewed them together. After I had my quilted fabric, I pulled out one of my favorite skirts, the one that fits just right, and used it to create a pattern for my new skirt. I had just enough quilted fabric to accomplish the desired skirt! I cut the pieces and sewed them together adding a light weight white cotton lining to it and a hot pink, velvet, elastic binding to the waist.

In the end, I had to add more elastic to the waist because the binding wasn't strong enough to keep the weight of the fabric up. Aside from that, this skirt is great. It's the best on sunny days, because it's light weight and breezy. I usually wear it with my brown Birkenstocks and my favorite soft yellow cardigan. Sometimes I even gussy it up a bit and throw on a few strands of pearls. It's just a fun skirt to have in the closet!

Grocery Shopping is Fun.

Today commemorates my first ever 99.9% plastic free shopping trip! It would have been 100% but I had to buy garbage bags for our kitchen's trash can. One day that won't be a necessity, but as it is, I had to buy them. The great thing about the trash bags I bought, is that they are biodegradable and will decompose in 18-24 months. That being my only plastic purchase, I feel very good about my groceries!

At the beginning of my shopping extravaganza I ran into my friend Libby, who truly inspired this epic event. When she found me I had a plastic bag of pre-shredded mozzarella in my hand. I complained to her of not liking to shred mozzarella and tried to justify making such a purchase. She put a finger to her chin and began letting her mind work out my dilemma. Within a minute she ran into the New Seasons deli (where she works) and started pulling shredded mozzarella from a bulk bag. She weighed it and gave it to me in a biodegradable paper container! The great thing about her brilliant plan was that I was able to get the exact amount of cheese I needed. The plastic bagged mozarella was short by 2 oz., meaning I would have needed to buy two packages and wasted 6 oz of cheese. Thanks Libby!

Another highlight from my shopping trip included buying barley. I know, I'm really living on the edge. But, catch this...I went to the aisle where you normally buy beans in plastic bags, but they didn't have any pearled barley. I scratched my head and pondered where to get barley, regardless of its packaging, if it wasn't in the bean aisle. I thought it might be with the flour. So, I wandered in the direction of flour. On my way I happened past the bulk aisle and there it was...with a choir of angels singing and bright lights illuminating it. I was so pleased.

In case your wondering if all my no-plastic purchases increased my grocery bill, I'll tell you it didn't. As I would make one decision that would be more pricey, the very next decision would inevitable offer me a savings. In the end I walked out of the grocery store spending at least $30 less our normal grocery bill!

Look Mom No Plastic!

Last weekend my Grandma sent me home with a large paper bag filled with freshly picked rhubarb straight from her garden. My Grandma picks the rhubarb so that it has some of its root base still attached, this helps it to stay fresh longer. This is good for me, because I'm always slow in finding a good use for it.

I've had some delicious rhubarb dishes in the past week and a half, so I decided to freeze the rhubarb my Grandma gave me and make use of it later. As I mindlessly went about the kitchen in search of a plastic freezer bag, I ran across two large Ball jars with old fashioned glass lids. They're really quite cute and I love having them on display in our windowed cupboards. But, it struck me that these two Ball jars might be put to some industrious use.

Without even really considering it, I made a plastic free decision. It's incredible that there always seems to be an alternative to plastic. I'm truly excited about this plastic free choice, because once I use the rhubarb I just need to throw the jars in the dishwasher and they're ready for another use! I may need to stock up on these Ball jars...

I'm so excited for this!

My Clothes Don't Match.

As always, I woke up this morning. My days usually start out this way. I like the predictability of it. It took me awhile to actually get out of bed. I think I spent about 15 minutes convincing myself to get up and get moving instead of resetting my alarm. I reset my alarm anyway and got out of bed 30 minutes later.

I swung immediately into action and started on the 3 hour process of baking bread. During the first rise, I showered and attempted to dress myself. "Attempted" is the best word I can conjure up for what happened this morning. I spent time looking for clothes that I couldn't find, putting on and taking off clothes that didn't quite fit the way I wanted them to, and feeling utterly frustrated by the amount of time it was taking me to get dressed. I stomped my foot and exhaled loudly. I threw my arms up and threw my clothes on the ground. I couldn't do it. I couldn't dress myself. I walked away from my closet wearing a shirt and pants that didn't match. In my brain I fumbled about, letting self-destructive thoughts take hold.

It was then that I found myself standing in front of Dave; mismatched with my hair dried funny. He looked at me with the complete acceptance of a person who loves you so much they see past your awkward moments. Unaware of the temper tantrum I had in the other room, he asked how I was doing. I fumbled around in my brain again, then confessed "I'm having a bad morning." He asked why. "I can't dress myself," I replied.

I can imagine it would sound silly to hear a grown person say that they can't dress themselves, but Dave didn't laugh. He walked towards me and pulled me close. I cried as he held me. There's something about being held while you're crying, it's like someone else takes the responsibility of making sure you don't burst apart physically while you're bursting apart emotionally.

Even though it was a silly thing to cry about, it meant a lot to me to have Dave there. I just wanted to take a minute to thank him and all my friends who have loved me even when my clothes have not matched. I love you.

Floo Blah Tutu Le Blah

"Bonjour! Comment ce va?" I exclaim with my red beret smartly positioned on top of my head. "Ce va," the kindly French person says in response, smiling at me--an American who took the time to learn her native French language. I walk on, feeling as though I made the world a better place through saying "Hello, how are you?"

This is how I envision my time in France; me wearing cute little French outfits and speaking with a perfect little French accent. I see the French people looking at me adoringly and accepting me as one of their own. I sit at a cafe and tut along with them as a woman with large hair waves her arms and speaks with a southern drawl.

In my imagination I am quite the snob, which is not like me at all. That's why I like my imagination. I get to try on different people and test out different scenarios. What I don't like about my imagination is that it can make some things seem more important than they really are.

The reason I want to go to France is to see the Louvre and the many other lovely buildings filled with art and history. I want to sit in a cafe and sip tea while drawing the people that pass me by. There is a romantic quality to France that I want to capture, and it has nothing to do with the people or fitting in. It is more about being mysterious and wandering around in unfamiliar places.

I would dearly love to go to France one day, and while it would be helpful to speak French for the two to three weeks that I'm there, I don't know that I would find any other use for speaking the language. I might find a lost French woman in Portland, but she would inevitably speak English and I would sweetly smile at her as she said, "Hello, how are you?" with her cute French accent.

It's hard for me to admit, but I can't justify learning French right now. I will just have to settle for the French-gibberish I speak in my imagination. It goes something like this, "Floo blah tutu le blah." It's really quite elegant in my mind.

Supermarket Folly

I just stuck my finger in my eye. That wasn't the bad part, it was the stinging that came afterward and wondering what I had on my finger that could sting my eye so much. As I walk through the morning I remember clearly washing my hands after using the toilet, but not after applying my make-up. Make-up should not sting your eye like that, but I can't think of anything else that would.

Alas, I didn't sit down to write today because of my eye (that just happened as I sat down to write). I am writing to ask for solutions. Does anyone have clever ideas on how to avoid plastic? I'm wondering where to find tortillas that don't come in plastic bags? Does vegetable oil even come in a plastic-less container...or should one completely convert to olive oil (that always comes in fancy glass containers)? Is there a way to make one's own sour cream and yogurt so that one might avoid the plastic container that it comes in? And I just thought about one's cheese!

Why does everything in the world have a plastic option, but not everything has a plastic-less option? This to me is folly. If plastic and disposable culture are causing the damage that I'm told think they are, why is there not some larger change?

I was thinking about McDonald's yesterday and how many fast food meals they've served (they brag about it on their signs). Then I thought about all the waste that has been created from a restaurant trying to come up with a cost-effective solution to not giving out proper plates and silverware to every Tom, Dick, and Sally that come to the drive through and expect their meal served in under 3 min. That is a lot of waste, but it's a waste that will biodegrade quicker than plastic.

When I look down the aisles at a a grocery store and see the amount of food being sold and the amount of plastic used to package it, I wonder about attacking a cooperation like McDonalds. Our grocery stores shelves are lined with plastic. I feel like I'm being dramatic. I don't like to feel that way, I want to find a solution and not blame the man. So dear reader, what ideas to you have?

Cupcakes!

I love, love, love cupcakes. There is a great shop on Belmont called Saint Cupcake that is dedicated solely to the making of scrumptious cupcakes. On days where it just feels like a treat is needed, I head there.

Today, I felt like making my own scrumptious treats. In an effort to remain plastic-less, I had to make them from scratch (both cake box and frosting container make use of the dreaded plastic). I again referred to the greatest baking book there ever was: Baking Illustrated, by Cook's Illustrated.

Here's how they turned out! (I added the doily for a fancy effect.)

Vesty vest

I've been wanting a black vest for awhile now, but the vests that I would try on where not quite right. Some were too puffy, some were bulky around the shoulders yet tight around the waist, and others were only available in white (white outerwear is just a bad idea). I had an idea in my head as to what this vest would look like. It needed to be feminine and also outdoorsy. I finally found the vest, but the price was around $200. (See below)



At one point in my life I would have dropped that, but I no longer have the talent to justify spending money in that fashion. So, being crafty I thought I might be able to make one for myself and I might even be able to do it using thrifted fabric. I started by cruising the local Goodwill (Broadway). There were some great options there. I landed on this sweater, then took off to Fabric Depot to get some coordinating fabrics and notions.



After all the fabrics were found, I just needed a pattern. I pulled a jacket out of my closet that had some similar design details along with a wonderful fit. I then pulled out another jacket that has a hood that actually functions. Using tracing paper I traced the pieces of each jacket that I wanted to copy. Then I started in on the hard part--making sure each pattern piece would work with the others. This part of the project took the longest.

Once the pattern pieces were ready to go, I started cutting. It's always nerve racking to cut into something that already functions (like the sweater). I almost didn't, because I had started to grow attached to the idea of owning a frumpy sweater to wear around the house. I hemmed and hawed about it for a day or two before I took the plunge. In hindsight I'm glad I went for it. It added the perfect touch to my vest. Check it out!

Plastic-less

I am trying to live plastic free. I've always thought of plastic as bad and wasteful, but I have also used it without a flinch of guilt. I suppose that is the result of being raised in a disposable culture. Now, I am trying to live without it.

Unfortunately, it is everywhere. Upon opening my reliable cardboard box of Cheerios, I discovered a plastic bag and a plastic Guitar Hero toy (loads of fun). I had teriyaki chicken for dinner the other night and it came to me in a plastic take out box along with a plastic fork. It is hard to live plastic free.

I am uniting with a group of people to live plastic free for three months. Knowing that they might be living successfully without plastic draws me to believe that I too can do it. I am no where near successful right now, but I want to keep working at it and try to make it a sustainable change in my life; hopefully one that lasts behond the three month commitment.

One thing I've learned is that it is difficult to buy bread packaged in anything but plastic (excepting artisan bread, which does not work well for PB&J). So, I am making my own bread. Last night I made bread sticks to accompany dinner and today I made a loaf of buttermilk bread (thank you Cook's Illustrated). Here is a picture of the beautiful loaf of bread. I'm so proud. One less piece of plastic consumed.

Yoda in Paris

I have been home sick and stuck on the couch for the better part of this week. It follows to reason that I might be a bit out of my mind. On several occasions I've tried to convince others that I was not sick, so I might leave the couch and be with the real people, but to no avail. I am sick and it is not disguisable.

Today I am on the couch again fiddling with my blog (that I've been neglecting), and in my current state of sanity I thought it best to expose the follies of the day. One such folly is of my cat; whose apparently been to Paris (without my foreknowledge). I think Yoda looks quite dapper in his sailor suit.

I also took a facebook quiz today and decided not to publish the results. The quiz lets you know which Jane Austen character you are most like. I've always wanted to be like Elizabeth Bennet. So, I should have been excited when the 7 question quiz decided that I was indeed like her, but I was too frustrated by the quizzes non-manipulative format to feel anything about its ability to define me. I couldn't figure it out and had to just answer honestly. I like knowing the format then being able to choose whether to answer honestly or in an effort to reach the results I desire. I felt off my game to not be able to dicifer a simple 7 question personality quiz.

I need to be around real people....

Little Beastie.

Our cat is part siamese. He looks like he should be elegant and a bit snoody, but truth be told he's a little off. Right now he's perched on the back of the couch looking out the window as a ship's captian might look out towards the horizon. He does this sort of thing; tricking me into looking at him as a cat and not the silly beast he is.

In the time it has taken me to describe the previous scene, he has already done several things to make me shake my head at him and feel a tiny bit sorry for his sweet little efforts towards being a real cat. In my head he's like Pinocchio, always wanting to be a real boy. The selfish part of me, the part that likes to laugh at him, is glad that he hasn't been granted his wish by some merciful fairy.

I think he would be insufferable, like many cats are, if he didn't occasionally loose his balance and fall off the couch. I like that he has a nightly routine that he depends on us to keep or else he starts to loose it. He's our little man and whether it be the sexy poses he does by the door to convince us not to leave or that he follows us everywhere in the house (including into the bathroom) so he can simply be where we are, we love him.

I love that just a few minutes ago as he was cleaning himself he tipped over, like an invisible hand came up and shoved him. I love that when I laughed at him, he indignantly looked at me as if I had been the one to push him even though I was sitting across the room. He does stuff like this all the time, yet still tries to convince both Dave and I that he is sophisticated; as he is now, sitting like a gargoyle on our ship's desk. Precious little beastie.

Leave No Plastic Behind

Today's Project

I work at a child development center with infants and toddlers. One of the room's I oversee is embarking on an animal curriculum. I was inspired to bring in something new for them, so I went to the craft store and bought some felt (eco-fi, made from recycled plastic bottles) and played around for a bit. These masks are what I came up with... The designs are simple, to keep with the school's philosophy. Our learning materials are to be open-ended to promote each child's ability to create and imagine. There are no eye holes yet, because I'm not quite sure where to put them.

Recycled T-shirt Bird

I made this yesterday from some scrap pieces of t-shirt (click on the picture to see the details). I'm pretty excited about it...but I don't really know what to do with it. Any ideas?

Oodles of Pearls

Today I bought three strands of fake pearls and a pair of fake pearl earrings. The earrings are huge and verging on obnoxious, but so are the three strands of pearls. The longest strand goes nearly to my belly button and the two others are just inches shorter in length.

This pearl fest was inspired by the Sex in the City movie (which I'm not proud to say I've watched two and a half times). There is a scene in the movie where Carrie and Big are laying in bed, reading. Carrie is wearing barely anything (just a silky little something and underwear) but she manages to accessorize it with a long strand of pearls. As she sits in bed reading a book of love letters to Big, my thoughts drift from their interaction and go to the strand of pearls she is wearing. It occurs to me then how very lovely it would be to have my own strand of long, elegant pearls.

Of course a long, elegant strand of pearls in not a very practical thing for a girl to go out and buy (unless you're Carrie and drop it like it's hot). So, I resigned myself to not having a long, elegant strand of pearls...UNTIL...the other day when I was digging around in my jewelry box (a recycled cigar box filled with costume jewelry) and found a strand of fake pearls I must have gotten as a kid. Yippee! In that moment I was delighted with the fact that I am such a pack rat. I sported my fake pearls happily knowing that they didn't cost (present day me) any money.

Then today I found the mother load. In the horrid process of finding jeans, I happened upon oodles of fake pearl accessories at American Eagle. I gleefully bought the longest strands they had and a ridiculous set of matching earrings, knowing full well how silly I was behaving. I now sit on my couch (without regret) feeling very pretty with a long strand of pearls dangling around my neck (wearing considerably more than Carrie).

On Occasion...

On occasion I feel brilliant. Today, was such an occasion.

I am by nature a shy person. Not in the sense that I shy away from opportunity, but shy in the sense that I know people have many important things to do and I'd rather not interrupt them. When I am called upon to interrupt people (i.e. have a conversation with them), my heart starts to beat quicker and the air thickens. I feel pressure to say something worth the time I am stealing--to awe them. But I find that when I open my mouth, I am just me and our conversation is no more than usual.

Today though, was not a usual sort of day. Today I led a workshop. I excel at workshops. People elect to come to workshops. There is no stealing time from anyone. They seek to hear what I have to say. So, I spoke. The things I had planned to say came out of my mouth in the correct order. And the questions I had planned to provoke thought did just as they were told to do.

In the end I was very pleased with myself. I sit here now still thinking about how brilliant I was. Today was an occasion.