Tag Archives: Inspiration

Digital Retail Therapy

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When I was young, or perhaps I should say when I was childless, one of my most significant forms of stress management was SHOPPING!  I love to shop.  I believe some people call this retail therapy.  However, since Aiden came along and basically ruined shopping for me, turning it from stress management into stress manufacturing, I have pretty much given up shopping altogether.  While this is good for the pocketbook, which has also suffered since the arrival of our not so little bundle of joy, it is not so good for my moral. 

Enter online shopping!  Don’t get me wrong, the internet will never replace the sights, sounds, smells, and excitement of hitting the shops with some girlfriends and scoring incredible bargains, but it’s something.  It’s an outlet.  And there is SO much out there that you would never find in an ordinary store in your local strip mall.  One of my all-time favorite sites is ModCloth.com.  Their retro style is amazing and I feel inspired almost every time I visit their site.  They also have a blog called “Life in Style” that I have linked in my interests if you’d like to check it out.  I think, if I could just perfect my money tree project, I would redesign my entire wardrobe based on items, or at least inspiration from their site.  Here are a few of my recent favorites, just to peak your interest.

A collection of ModCloth Dresses that are to die for!

 

A variety - I actually purchases this retro inspired swimsuit last year and LOVE it. It's so modest that I feel comfortable in it while still feeling sexy and pin-up-ish.

 

ModCloth Hats and Shoes - Just lovely!

Re-defining Design

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For the last several months, we have been hunting for the perfect place to call home.  Having had our current home for sale for some time now, we do not want to be caught with no place to go if/when it sells.  The process of trying to sell and buy a home at the same time is one filled with discordant emotions:  The constant hope that it will sell, mixed with the anxiety of, “What if it sells?!?”  Looking for a new house with eager expectation, while the devil on your shoulder keeps telling you, “This is a waste of time . . . It could take another year before you sell your house and this house that you love will be LONG gone by then!”  But despite my doubts, reservations, and anxieties about packing up and starting over some place new, and despite the constant stress of having to keep our house immaculate on the off-hand chance that someone might want to come look at it . . . at times I allow myself to dream about starting fresh.  My home is very important to me and I strive to make it a beautiful, quiet, comfortable space that feels lived in.  I imagine myself to have a flair for design and am consistently inspired by beautiful spaces but, up until now, my design style can most accurately be described as traditional.  Safe.

 I am ready for something new.  Granted, I will not have a signficant redecorating budget after the expense of moving, but I know there are so many simple things that can be done on a dime.  Photos can be taken and digitally manipulated and then hung in spray-painted frames found for $0.50 at the Salvation Army.  Pillows can be made or recovered from scrap fabric found in a bin at most fabric stores.  Curtains can be bought for half the price when you look in the shower curtain section and have a working sewing machine.  I know that I have the capability to make a change and I am ready for it.  Afterall, acceptance is the first step toward recovery.

I also have the distinct privilege of having wonderfully artistic and design oriented friends who have recently moved and been able to re-define their style.  I look at the pictures they post and glean ideas and inspiration that I file away until it is my turn to re-draw my living space.  Here are some of their photos.  Hopefully they will inspire you as they have me.

Katie's New Home in NC - You can see more pictures on her blog, ChaiThoughts.com

Morgan's New Home in Downtown Jackson

Banana Nut . . . Curry?!?

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That’s right.  You read it correctly.  Inspiration has struck my kitchen again with a concoction that promised to be either disastrous or delightful.  Thankfully, as you can probably guess since I am proudly sharing it with you, it fell decidedly in the delightful category.  I have had the privilege lately, thanks to my wonderful sitter, of having Thursday afternoons to myself for two full hours while my son goes to play group.  Sometimes I have taken that opportunity to run errands or do other personal things that can be SO very difficult to do with a toddler, but on more than one occasion now, I have taken that time to creatively cook.  When I have the time and energy to study ingredients, experiment with quantities, and develop ideas, then cooking becomes more than a refueling of the family.  It becomes art.  It is as creative as writing, playing music, or drawing and it provides the same sort of release.  And in the same way that I am passionate about sharing my other creative endeavors, I am also driven to share my culinary successes. So VOILA!  Banana Nut Curry.  But, as I have said before, I am very touchy-feely about amounts.  You have to do whatever looks, smells, tastes right to you, so please take all of my measurements with a grain of salt (pun very much intended).

Banana Walnut Curry
Chop Julienne Style:
1/2 large green bell pepper
1/2 large purple onion
Slice:
4 large mushrooms
1 medium yellow squash
healthy handful of chopped cilantro
healthy handful of chopped walnuts
2-4 Chicken breasts (depending on size) cut into small strips (as though you were julienning chicken)

Add all of the previous ingredients to large skillet and douse with olive oil.  Season with the following spices to taste. (Again, all the quantities listed are VERY approximate. Since I didn’t measure while I was cooking, I have to guess retrospectively.)
Yellow Curry Powder (2 TBSPs)
Red Curry Powder (1 TBSP)
Dill (1 TBSP)
Garlic Powder (One good sprinkle across pan)
Thyme (1 tsp)
Cinnamon (1 TBSP)
Ginger (1-2 tsp)

Saute over medium to high heat until chicken is fully cooked and vegetables are tender.  Reduce heat to low and add the following ingredients to make the sauce:
1 to 1 1/2 cups of Sour Cream (I use low-fat sour cream for heart health reasons.)
1/2 large sweet potato, cooked and mashed (I know this would be a pain to do separately, but I had leftover mashed sweet potatoes from a previous dinner and I knew it would work well.  So you could always cook the curry sometime after you do sweet potatoes, as I did.  But bear in mind, they have to be savory sweet potatoes and not candied.)
1/2 Banana, mashed (This ingredient was the most risky for me.  I stayed on the fence for a while about whether or not to add it, knowing it could either completely ruin or completely make the dish.  But we never get anywhere creatively if we don’t take risks, so in it went.  I am very glad I took the risk.)
Milk to desired consistency (I used skim, but you can use whatever you prefer)
Red Curry Powder (probably another TBSP)
A dash more Cinnamon and Garlic (to taste)

Server over Brown Rice or Pasta.  I would have chosen rice, but, unfortunately I did not have any, so I fixed pasta and was pleasantly surprised at how nicely it worked.

Balance

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Balance.  This word . . . this idea, is so crucial for understanding and attaining happiness.  It is a significant part of the reason that I am writing this blog.  So many of us find it easy to highlight, ponder, dwell on, and magnify the negatives in our lives until they become radically out of balance with the positives that are all around us.  I am as guilty of this as anyone.  But, by the same token, the bright, happy, light, fun, and beautiful things, although often overlooked, would not retain their majesty without the contrast that pain provides.  I am struck lately, by many such examples of this balance in my life and they move me to gratitude.  They are the building blocks of my contentment.

In accidentally stabbing my hand, I discover over the course of the following week, the immense relief of allowing someone else to take control and help with the simple everyday things that often bog me down.  In being consistently frustrated by the window-rattling, base-thumping music of my rear adjoining neighbors, I am afforded an opportunity to connect to another neighbor I might otherwise have never spoken to.  While exhausting myself trying to finish a book for my book club, I find myself refreshed by the stimulating discussion of friends that follows my accomplishment.  Because my sitter’s daughter became ill, my son was able to spend some much needed time with his daddy and friends.  In lamenting the loss of certain friends to my husband, I am reminded of poignant examples of the depth of the friendships that remain.  While on the verge of letting my frustration overcome me at the unfathomably slow pace of my toddler on a walk around the block, he brings me a stick with dead leaves hanging off of it and proudly declares, “A flower for you Momma!  It’s special!”  Indeed it was.

The key, I suppose, is remembering, while immersed in the difficult moments, that they too will find balance.  There is always another side of the coin.  But don’t wait for that balance to happen too you.  Seek it out.  Mine for the joy that accompanies sorrow and most likely you will be able to find it.  Create moments that will surprise you . . . you might be surprised what you’ll find.

“Our Kind”

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Today I am humbled and inspired to gratefulness by an unexpected encounter that I had with some gentlemen working in the yard of the vacant house across the street.  When Aiden and I went outside to turn on the sprinkler and play in the yard, Aiden immediately became enamored with these workers and was desperate to investigate further.  “I go see them, Mommy!  I help!” 

I was hesitant because I didn’t want to get in the way or seem like we were gawking.  The men were not just doing yard work.  They were demolishing an enormous deck that enveloped much of the back yard.  I’m sure the last thing they needed was a two-year old staring at them, asking odd questions, and insisting he help, right?  But then I remembered the many other encounters I have had lately that have so inspired me to engage people . . . to give them the opportunity to share their lives, their passions, their work with someone who is excited to learn about them.  So I led Aiden by the hand across the street.  I was not disappointed with my decision.  The men, who, until that moment, had been quietly engaged in their back-breaking labor in 100 degree weather, stopped, looked up, and smiled.  They immediately began addressing Aiden as “little man,” inviting him to sit on their tractor and speaking to him about what it means to work hard.  It was like something out of an old southern novel.  I couldn’t bear to see them working so hard in this desperate heat, being so kind to my son without offering them something in return.  So I went home and brought back iced tea and popsicles.

I was greeted upon my return with phrases like, “Thank you kindly, ma’am!”  “You’re too sweet.”  “You’re gonna tempt me to go find an easy chair.”  As the conversation blossomed, I discovered that the men were brothers.  Two of TWENTY children born to their mother, who is currently 89.  There were 13 boys and 7 girls that grew up together in Pocahontas, MS.  The older of the two gentlemen, who didn’t look a day over 50, if that, said he was 70 years old.  And still working hard every day.  “What would I do with myself if I stopped?” he asked.  He recounted as he pried floorboards off the deck with a crow bar, sledgehammer, and brute strength how he was trying to teach his grandchildren to be eager workers, but “they just aren’t raised like they used to be.”  But he always let them help whenever they were willing.    The “younger” brother bragged about his family and seemed ashamed to need the help of his older brother, but explained that he has had health problems and just can’t handle it alone anymore.

The longer we spoke, the more filled with respect I was.  These men were humble and kind.  Lived a simple life, worked hard, and made no excuses.  They knew the value of family and earning their keep and would not give up even in the face of age and adversity.  Yet somehow I find myself worrying on a regular basis about things like money and time and health, when in reality we have plenty of all three.  It is amazing how perspective can change one’s outlook. 

As we were getting ready to leave, the younger brother mentioned off-handedly that he “thought sure it was [their] kind that lived across the street . . . black folk, that is.”
“But you know,” he said with a grin, “you’re the first people to come visit us in all the years we been workin’ this yard, so I guess you’re our kind after all!”