the long way home

Several weeks ago my father passed away.  About a month before that I went and saw him for what I knew would be the last time.  As his last born child, brought into the world 18 years after his other children, I was his little girl.  His health problems began when I was young and for the past 20 years I've been living on edge that the day would come.  

At his prime, he stood 7 feet tall, he filled a room with his stature, voice, and copious personality.  He was a natural born story teller and people seemed to flock around him for his sage advice and, honestly, his perverse sense of humor.

He lived a whole life before I was born.  He grew up in Pasedena and truly was a rebel without a cause.  He was active in California politics through the 60s and 70s.  He had four children from his first marriage then was married to my mother for 34 years.  Things were always difficult for all of us it seemed, him a life full of glory ended after a long decline, me as a child feeling the instability of a family balancing the negative effects of health problems.  Despite him never being on his feet, he kept me grounded, he kept me sane amongst the chaos.  I'll miss his voice the most.

The memorial this past weekend was a casual family party and I expected him to be there, sitting in his wheelchair, smoking a cigar, while he filled the room with his booming laugh.  

Along with my mom and brothers and sisters we spread his ashes along the Bear River near Sacramento.  It was a place I'd never been before, but where my siblings grew up and where he and my mom built their first house together. I felt lost. 

Rather than driving the 8 hours straight home to San Diego, we took the long way home, south east through the Sequoia National Forest. We got a cabin for the night and hiked through the giant trees, feeling dwarfed by the beauty of it all and that feeling that we have no control over the course of nature.  

Like the ancient towereing trees, my father was a mighty man.  At times he stood tall, at times a lightning strike may have slowed him down, but he always remained hopeful with a sparkle in his big blue eyes.

the little things

I'm currently in a period of transition and acceptance, a time to adapt to the good things life brings, the unfortunate and sad things, and all the limbo in between.  Thank goodness for the little things.

 Flowers from my husband, a rarity, but always welcome.

 A cat who will sleep anywhere, literally anywhere.

 Refreshing iced matcha during an afternoon drive in the country.

 Scraps of math left around the house from my husband's engineering projects.  Yeah, he does that for fun.

 A new hair color, bye bye beach blonde, hello dark blonde for fall (yay for no more roots!).

Also, our little munchkin Pickett, turned 2 years old a couple weeks ago and I forgot to commemorate the occasion.  He was so little when we got him yet he still hasn't grown into his ears.  

breaking a sweat

So I've started packing boxes and no we haven't bought a house yet.  We've barely started looking, and the bank says it will be like two months from when we put in an offer to have the keys in hand, so we are not going anywhere anytime soon.  But yes I am packing it up, my brain has moved on from this place.  The things we own just sit there watching me as I pout around wishing that the perfect listing would come up any day now.  The pressure is building in my head (especially with pinterest taunting me with cute home decor) that if I don't do something productive to keep my mind off the waiting that I will go crazy, like B.Spears crazy.  It manifests in different ways, mostly me occasionally dropping to my knees in the kitchen and yelling "house!" before returning to cooking or whatever I was doing.  Packing is a daunting, time consuming process, and since I'm (sad to say) over this place, I'm wrapping it up.  

Its amazing how much stuff has accumulated here over the past 2 and a half years.  We merged our stuff, got married, got a lot of presents, then picked up a newlywed, hand in hand strolling through the flea market hobby that has brought an influx of neat, often useless, pieces into our home.

I've starting packing up the chachkies since they just sit there, then it's onto the closets and cabinets.  If it isn't used or adored regularly its going to be donated or packed.  Then I will work my way through the garage, and hopefully by that point we will be in escrow somewhere.   Then down will come the art off the walls and the rest of the house will follow suit.

At the current rate it takes me just to get one box done, starting this early will leave me just enough time to completly freak out and throw everything in random boxes two days before we have to leave.  That's always how it goes for me, good intentions on the front end and massive disorganized panic at the back end.

The heat is unbearable today.  I know I can't complain since we are in San Diego, but the problem is most places here, even the stores, don't have air conditioning.  So when the intense heat of August hovers over this little town of ours I come to a standstill, sweating, complaining, and sitting in front of the fan.  Pickett being the short nose pup he is can't even go on walks without getting heat stroke.  But the heat will pass, and soon it will be that perfect time of summer, early September when the ocean is still warm and the tourists have gone home.

holy paint by numbers

It's been almost two years since I saw it.  It sat behind some tarnished silver and a pile of tangled jewelry.  I was at a thrift store and I heard it calling to me.  It was a painting of Jesus, specifically a paint by number painting of Jesus.  There was something about his face, each dimension of his beard painted in a different subtle shade of brown.  I'm not too religious, I grew up Presbyterian and I'm sure when kids are in the picture we'll go back, but here and now the pure retro funkiness of this art was calling to me.  The thing is, I was at the thrift store that day with my mother, and I knew if I picked up that painting to buy it, I would hear about it.  "You can't just hang a picture of Jesus in your house? You don't even go to church, although I wish you would."  I'm not sure why I wanted something so not me, but I wanted it badly. When I returned to the thrift store on my own he was gone and ever since it's been a regret that I didn't buy the paint by numbers Jesus.

knock, knock anyone home?

For our first wedding anniversary and every one after, we want to follow the traditional gift schedule, and be a little creative about it, this first year was paper.  Jesse handed me a half opened cardboard box stuffed with newspaper "its technically not paper, but close enough."  I laughed because my present to him sat so neatly wrapped on the table and I was handed a box that just fell off the post truck.  I peeled back the first layer of newspaper to behold "Jesus!" I shouted.  I beamed with excitement.  Looking down into the box again, a faint glow peeked out from the remaining newspaper, it was none other than Mary to join the gang.  I was floored, I couldn't think of anything I wanted more. They're weird, colorful, fantastic, and who care's if I'm not Catholic or whatever, these are art.  The beauty of the gift was that I never actually asked for it, he just knew that it was something I was always searching for and took it upon himself to find it.   Honestly, gift exchanges between my husband and I over the past 6 years have been hit or miss.   He's a dude, I don't communicate too well, and together we procrastinate.  Giving a gift that was never ever expected, but awesome, is the best kind of gift.  These two paintings will have to wait until we are in a new place, but when they get their own wall it's going to be righteous, literally.

He also got me some Padres tickets and a certificate for a mani/pedi.  I got him a voucher to go on a spearfishing tour and some books on growing a beer garden and raising chickens and goats (we are really serious about this homestead thing). We had a nice dinner at Starlight, then enjoyed a slice of guava cake from Extraordinary Desserts at the buy your own bottle bar Bottlecraft.

  
Overall it was a marvelous anniversary and the first of many.

one year

Our wedding was one year ago today!  It's been a year of transition and adjustment, a year of sweet, simple bliss, a year of comfort and delight, it's the first year of forever.  I can look back fondly now on our wedding and not pick it apart with "if onlys."  My brain has washed out all the stress and only left the happy memories of that joyful day.  I figure this is the last time I get to gratuitously shove my wedding photos in your face, so here goes...

Because we had the ceremony on the deck in my father-in-law's backyard we had to rearrange the bridal party from the typical setup.  I really liked the asymmetry.  My favorite detail of the whole wedding was how nicely the bridal party pulled together.  The girls wore Amasale dresses in different colors with their choice of jewelry and metallic flat sandals.  The guys wore their own grey suits, cotton plaid ties, and classic Vans sneakers.  We used assorted vintage hankies as the guys pocket squares and wrapped around the girls bouquets.  I'm obsessed with the baby's breath and eucalyptus leaves as the bouquets and boutonnieres, they were so easy to make and it was like 20 bucks for all 8 of them!

  

I wanted the flowers to have that wildflower look, but didn't want to spend too much money.  The answer was filler flowers!  I went to Francos, the local flower mart, about a week before the wedding and ordered a ton of filler flowers (other than baby's breath, I have no clue what kinds I picked out).  My creative aunt and cousin worked hard the day before the wedding, delicately sculpting flowers in good ol' jam jars for that casual summer look.  They sat on the tables among succulents in tins and candles on mismatched teacup saucers.

 Francos did my bouquet, it took up half of my flower budget, but so worth it.

my rose gold engagement ring and our bands

his is engraved your hand in mine and mine says we walk the miles (props for anyone who knows what that's from)

popcorn bar for cocktail hour
I'm glad we finished our pictures before everything, we really enjoyed the whole evening without feeling rushed

 it's ridiculous to look back and think I sat there and glued flags onto straws, but it's all in the details

 all the desserts were homemade, pumpkin pie and rice crispy treats from grandma

maybe overdone, but balloons are so fun!

To my darling husband,
Here's to many more years and memories.
I love you,
Jordan

juncture

For the foreseeable future has come to its apex.  This Saturday will mark my sixth week selling succulents at the farmers market and my last (for now at least).  The market has been going really well, but upon closer inspection, every week I've been making a profit of about seven dollars.  Even though I'm breaking even, I still have to pay for supplies and keep it all up on a weekly basis.  I knew that would be the case going into it and it's never been about the money, but I've reached a financial turning point in my life that needs to be more aggressively followed.  

There is something about being in my mid-20s that suck.  Ever since I finished college it's been like this.  Just because I'm married doesn't make this annoying, unsettling "where am I going and why don't I have the career/money/experience to get there faster?" point in life any easier (my husband's in the same boat).  Although the succulent business is something I'm still pursuing whole heartily, there is a precipice looming yonder that can switch my life from limbo to feeling a hell of a lot more in control.    

My husband and I have a dream and it's a big one, we want to buy a house.   Like any normal newlyweds we dream of a cozy little home to own, but always thought it would come 3 or 4 years down the road.  Upon further inspection of our finances that dream can come a lot sooner than we anticipated.  If we skimp and save every single penny, we can start looking for our dream home by Thanksgiving.  I repeat, November, turkey and stuffing, Autumn, orange leaves, and there we'll be getting approved to start shopping for the biggest purchase of our lives.

I've wanted a house to call my own for as long as I can remember.  I moved a lot as a child and as an adult, I can't say there has ever been a time where I've truly felt at home.  Maybe I just have control issues, or lack thereof, but when you own your own home and live in your own house no one can tell you what to do (maybe I just need a psychiatrist rather than a mortgage).  Even if I sound a little crazy, this dream trumps all, even my fledgling succulent business.  

We don't want any old house, we want a homestead, at least half an acre where we can have a huge garden, a barn/workshop, chickens, and maybe even some goats.  If the property is big enough, when our family expands, so could the house, and the potential to never have to move again is possible.  In North County San Diego (the only place I could really call home) there are some neighborhoods that are convenient to everything, but retain that citrus orchard feel with reasonable prices.  

a girl can dream

For the record, I am not quitting on my business, no sir I am not, I'm just scaling back and heading in a slightly different direction.  Here are the next 4 steps for little grey gull:

1) I want to expand this blog.  I do a lot more than grow succulents and buy junk.  Expanding my posts to include more of my crafts, cooking, and general life would be a good use of promoting my brand. I guess it can't hurt the internet to add another young woman blogging about her life as an eco-friendly do-it-yourselfer.

2) I want to promote and sell my vintage succulent arrangements for more specific purposes, like events or businesses.  Tailoring my pieces to act as centerpieces at a wedding or restaurant is the whole reason I wanted to do this in the first place.

3) I'm looking into an Etsy shop for "assemble it yourself" vintage succulents arrangements and my block printed canvas totes.

4) I am not done with the markets, I just think it would work a better on a seasonal basis.  Probably around Christmas time, I will do some craft shows or markets to sell my stuff as holiday gifts (if I'm not too overwhelmed by being a new homeowner).

So, long story short, come see me for the last time at the farmers market this Saturday, and get ready to see a lot more posts about my forcibly frugal life.

staying put

My husband and I have been teetering with the idea of moving back to our hometown of Encinitas.  Right now we live near downtown San Diego and both work in the middle of the county, so a move north wouldn't really affect our commute.  Encinitas has major pros, we could be close to the beach, family, and old friends, but the cons are expensive rent, losing the luxury of walking places, and the annoying effort of moving.  

Let me get one thing straight, we love our current place, we love the neighborhood, the house, the charm, everything, but despite living here almost 2 years we have never really settled.  We left our heart in Encinitas and for years, through college and beyond, we always said we'll move back.  It's a terrible way to think, now that the transient phase of our lives is over, if we can't feel settled or satisfied anywhere but Encinitas we are setting ourselves up for disappointment. 

I was talking to an old friend of mine from high school about this curse, the curse of growing up in an amazing hometown, so in adulthood nothing quite compares.  Most of my friends have been struck with this.  Her boyfriend from Idaho doesn't get it, most people cant wait to get out.  

Then I realized, I'm always looking for the next big thing, the next place to move, the next hobby to try, the next camping trip, but I never really sit down and enjoy the now.  When I take a second and look around at my life, I see how good I have it.  Why push to change that?  Home is where my husband, my animals, and my garden is, and I have all that.

So we've decided to stay put.  The next big goal, that is totally worth looking forward to, is buying a house in the next 2 years. It definitely will not be in Encinitas, the housing prices are insane and we've come to discover the we want as close to an acre of land as possible, we want our own little Shire per say.  It's hard to let go of our hometown, knowing our children won't grow up there, but now it feels like a whole new heap of oppurtunties have opened up and we can move on from outdated dreams.  

For pictures sake, we just picked up this weeks CSA from the farmers market and it was a good haul.  Another reason to love our neighborhood, a Saturday morning walk to the farmers market for 15 bucks of awesome goodness.  Tonight's dinner is pasta with roasted cherry tomatoes, beet greens, and goat cheese, mmm.

Also, this happened the other night and it makes my heart melt.  They have become fast friends who play and sleep together, the cat even licks the dog.

happy easter

I've slowed down a little bit.  I was so enthusiastic about my succulent business then boom life hits.  A heap of new responsibilities at my day job, my husbands birthday, his grandparents in town, my dad in poor health, an adopted cat joining our family, car problems, having to buy a new car, rain and mud mucking up my plants, and without a dishwasher and washer/dryer our once charming cottage looks as chaotic as I feel.  To top it all off I've been fighting a mean case of the yawns.

me as a terrified little babe, sometimes I still feel like this

I suppose that's how life is, things never slow down, but there has got to be a way to enjoy the little things amongst the larger chaos. 

That being said, its a beautiful Easter morning, the cat and the dog are getting along swimmingly, and my new (new to me) car is a incredible compared to the clunkers I have driven since my sweet 16.  With my work schedule lightening up and a vacation on the horizon, enjoying the little things isn't so difficult.