SirG and Me

A year ago on this date, one of my customers called. His business partner had a stroke that morning and was in the ICU. I get to know and love my customers and considered this woman a friend as well as customer. I got in the car, stopped for a handful of flowers, and headed to the ICU.

When I walked in, she looked like a crumpled bird lying in the bed. So small. She was out. I know now that she was heavily sedated to give her body a rest. There was one other person in the room sitting in a chair. I didn’t recognize him, but I sat down next to him. I had my flowers, but realized they weren’t allowed in the ICU, so I put them on the window sill behind her bed, hoping nobody would toss them out. I don’t know why those flowers were so important to me. They were so pathetic when I think back. I didn’t grab one of those pretty bouquets. For some reason I just grabbed a small bunch of something I don’t know the name of. I put them in a mason jar, and that was my bouquet. Not exactly the fancy stuff you usually see in hospitals.  The nurse said the flowers could stay.

We sat. She was out. The nurse came to take her for some testing, wheeled her back when they were done. She started to get a little agitated, trying to get comfortable, though still pretty out of it. The other man in the room stood up and started adjusting her pillows, pulled up the covers, helped her get situated…and, she was out again…..

We chatted. When he laughed, he kept putting his hand to his mouth. It reminded me of when I was a kid and really shy. My mom was trying to have a nice picture taken of me, my brother and sister. I was about 5. Every time the photographer went to snap a shot, up my hand went to my mouth. I still remember that. The final picture was of my hand halfway up to my mouth. I just could not smile without doing that.

Every now and then Tonya would throw off her covers when she moved around. Without interrupting the conversation, he got up, covered a shoulder, covered a foot, straightened everything up, sat back down, kept talking to me. And, I loved that he did it without making a big show of it. He just did it. He was making sure she was covered and cared for and didn’t seem to be doing it to impress anybody. It looked too automatic. When I described this person to a group of women I’ve known forever, I began referring to him as SirG, for Sir Galahad. Because, his behavior just seemed so gallant.

This is another thing I remember, shoot me if it’s silly, but he had great hamstrings. I’m sorry, I had to get that out there. He was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans and when he would get up to cover her back up, I noticed the back of his legs. And, the reason I noticed is that hamstrings aren’t usually all that visible when you are wearing loose jeans unless you are in really great shape. Look at the picture at the top. So there. That’s what I noticed. Other than the fact that he so easily got up to cover Tonya when she was exposing herself and covered his mouth when he laughed….I began to wonder if he was missing his front teeth. I know it’s crazy, but why else cover your mouth so much? What’s wrong with me that I automatically thought that?

The next time I came back, she was a little more lucid and he was there too. Tonya was awake, but not really with it. She was agitated, hot, thirsty, tossing around……She said, “It helps me sleep if you two talk. It makes me feel surrounded by family.” So, we talked. For hours. I had my knitting and got to know SirG. This became the routine. I would come to visit and knit while I talked to SirG as he got up and down making sure Tonya wasn’t exposed or thirsty or whatever.

He told me about his family (14 siblings!!!). He told me about his parents, Amish. He told me that when his parents got to be in their 90′s, the siblings all chipped in to help them so they could stay together in their house. The boys each took turns taking a month off work to live in the house with the parents to care for them. The girls took care of the day to day stuff like cooking, doctors appointments, making sure they had what they needed, etc…. As he told me this he continued to get up when Tonya needed water, covered her when she kicked off her sheet and I thought, “This is a guy who doesn’t run away”

It was time for me to go. He took my number. “Just in case…” :  )

(More to come…..)

Perfezione

I do not speak Italian, but I will. At some point. SirG and I are going to go to Italy sometime next year and I want to be able to speak the language, at least a little, by that time. One of the common things people do, who don’t speak a language very well, is refuse to speak it. They don’t want to sound silly. I get that. I also get that if you don’t practice speaking it, you won’t ever speak it well.

I’ve made fresh pasta before, but I haven’t made it often. I wanted to brush up last weekend. Anybody can look at the dough ball here and see that it’s going to be a tough dough and tough pasta. I didn’t have the right flour, so I used all purpose. I wanted the practice more than I wanted to go to the store for semolina.

This is a good pie crust. I can tell by looking at it that it was flaky. I’ve perfected my pie crust by tweaking the little things and doing it often. I screwed up the crimping on the edges. That’s okay. Next time.

I’ve gotten to a point in my life where mistakes don’t bother me. I just look at them as the humps I need to get over to get where I want to go.

I don’t mind looking silly in front of groups either. I’ve done back flips off the diving board at the pool below, in my forties, in front of strangers, even though I hadn’t done them since I was a kid. My form sucked.

I’ve taken on speaking engagements, though it was one of my greatest, heart thumping, anxiety producing activities for years. I shook. I stammered. I made visual aids so nobody had to look directly at me. I got through it. I got better.

When I was just learning to ski, as a 28 year old adult, I went down expert runs that just about killed me. I fell. I lost my skis. I bent poles. I did many many face plants and have gotten a lot of huge bruises. Today, skiing is one of the great joys of my life.

Sometimes I throw my arms out and glide in big arcs down the mountain pretending I am a bird. I imagine my joy looks like a point of light to God, and as I sail down the mountain, I imagine what it must look like to Him, me and my tiny point of joy light…..

Right now I’m participating in NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month. My goal is to write 2,500 words per day for the month of November. I’m up to 1,100 today so far. It’s 4:00 am. It’s okay if I write badly. I’m going to get better.

The photo at the right is my foot. I’m sitting on top of Mt. Beardstadt, a “fourteener”. These are a challenge. The altitude makes it really hard to put out the physical exertion. It’s hot at the bottom, and cold at the top. Your hands swell up. Carrying just the right amount of water is a trick. It can be dangerous. When I first started climbing, I was scared of bears, mountain lions and snakes. I would hike along feeling “watched”, imagining what I would do if an animal approached, eyeing big rocks, carrying a stick….  I did it anyway.

I started taking ballet again, after a 25 year gap. I learned to play the piano at 34 years old. I started life over at 43. And, my soul sang.

The best lesson ever…..Years ago I went roller skating with some friends. I didn’t know how to roller skate. I was so embarrassed. I wouldn’t do it. I sat on the sidelines not wanting to look silly. Sitting on the sidelines out of fear and embarrassment was the theme of my childhood. I remember one of our friends who did skate though. He was horrible. I’m smiling as I type this. He was all over the place, falling, grabbing the side boards, wiping out…He was having so much fun! And, nobody was laughing at him for looking ridiculous. We were all laughing because he was having such a great time. I was missing out because I was too afraid to look silly in public. I’ve never, ever forgotten that lesson. I should tell him today, that he taught me something 30 years ago without even realizing it.

Being willing to be vulnerable is such a gift, you know? What an accomplishment in itself that is! It doesn’t matter what anybody thinks. What does matter is putting myself into the arena and making a stab at creating the life I want. Because, when I look at the pictures here, I know I wouldn’t have done any of these things, that have become my soul’s delight, if I was afraid of trying and worried what others thought.

So, where am I going with all of this me me me stuff? If you want the life you want, you have to start somewhere. A few suggestions.

Decide what you want. This sounds obvious, but I see a lot of people complaining about where they are and what their life looks like, but who have no idea what it is they do want.

Decide what you need. What’s holding you back? Do you need lessons? A class? A youtube video? A friend who can show you? A piece of special equipment? Money? What? Then, brainstorm ways to get it.

Choose your cheerleaders well. There are plenty of naysayers out there. They are everywhere and vocal. These are not your cheerleaders. Even people who love you are not necessarily your cheerleaders. When you are starting a new endeavor, share it with only those people you know will be supportive of you and enthusiastically support you. In the beginning, one vocal naysayer can be a dream stealer.

Don’t share your plans with everybody and anybody. This is similar to the point above. But, what I mean here is, don’t dilute your idea or plan by talk talk talking about it. Just begin it. Talking about it too much dilutes the energy you need to be putting into your dream. Clam up and get moving.

Do what you want, not what you think you should. Self explanatory, I think. If it feels good and right to you, do it. This is your life. I’m not talking about hurting others, dumping on them or discarding their well being, if your decisions impact others. I’m just saying, if it makes your soul sing, pursue it. Don’t give one thought – ever – to impressing others. This is not what this is about. You are creating what you want.

Start from where you are. Don’t wait for perfection, until you are perfect, perfectly prepared, totally assured of success. That’s a form of procrastination. Just get the basics in place, do some homework, then begin. You will work out the kinks along the way.

Be flexible. You will evolve as you go. That’s okay. If the idea or plan you started with, changes into something else, that’s okay. It’s a good thing. Letting something flow naturally into what feels right, is a great way to find your niche, your bliss.

Be willing to fail. Begin again. And again. And again…..Most of the fun in life is in the doing, the creation, not the sitting, worrying or complaining. Be the one who steps up to the plate.

Have fun!

Open House

I just want to get this out there. I’m going to create a page with more details and post about it again. But, I’m having an open house on Saturday, December 8, 2012, noon to 4:00 PM.

I want to give people a chance to meet me, see what I do, see my spaces, see what I offer, have some refreshments, and enjoy. The main purpose is to have a nice afternoon of visiting, information, fun and connection. I’m focusing on three main areas; food, art/craft, book group workshops. There will be samples to try, things to look at, items to purchase and schedules of upcoming events.

Food: There will be samples, snacks and refreshments. You will have the opportunity to jump in and try some hands on cooking; fresh pasta, pastry, crepes, maybe some sushi rolling….It all depends on what I’m working on at the time. It will be ongoing throughout the afternoon.

Art/Craft: You can take a look at the studio/work spaces, see the types of workshops I’m offering and have the opportunity to sign up for anything that may interest you. I’m a huge fan of journalling and will be offering an art journal workshop in January where you will create your own art journals. I’m particularly excited about that one because I’m all about blurring the lines between art and life and using journalling and imagery to get clearer about what it is we see for ourselves. If you can envision it, you can create it.

Book Club Groups: I have two books I’m excited to dig into with a group. Both are about creating the life you want for yourself; Living Your Bliss and The Firestarter Sessions. You’ll have the opportunity to take a look at the books, see the worksheets we’ll be using and sign up if you are interested in participating. This is such a great thing, to be able to meet with a group who are all on the same page, wanting to create the lives they envision and supporting each other as we move toward what it is we want. Can’t wait!
I hope to see some new faces! Contact me with any questions at cindy@cindyallenshine.com

Creating A Beautiful Life From Scratch

Today is November 7, an anniversary of sorts for me. Three years ago today I experienced a life changing moment, that produced a sea change in everything. It sounds so dramatic. It was. It was the worst time in my life, that was also a gift from the heavens. “Here, now do something with this.” It was one of those times where you end up obliterating yourself, or using it as a catalyst. What’s the choice really. I’m in!
So, on this day, I tend to get introspective. It’s an important day to me. But, I don’t want to focus on what fell apart, I want to focus on the beauty that came after. We hear so much about everything being about perspective or attitude, and it really is. There really is beauty and opportunity all around. It’s all what you focus on. You have a choice in how you view the world. And you can choose to create the life you want.

When I was walking the razor’s edge (that was fun, let me tell you…..), I suddenly saw that I had a choice which side of the edge I wanted to step toward, and the step was really small. I realized in that moment how close we all can be to despair or joy. Obliteration, or life. For whatever reason, I chose to step into the light at a critical moment. And, I stayed there. It would have been very very easy to take a step in the other direction, because I really wanted to crawl in the closet, cover my head and shut the door too…..But, I didn’t. One decision one day and it changed everything… I make it sound so easy :  )

After that, it was all about creating a life I loved.  A great gift was bestowed on me. I had the gift of starting over, from scratch. Now, I totally get that a lot of people wouldn’t see that as a gift. And, it was hard, to be sure. But, man, it feels great. How much fun am I having!!!! I’m not a rare bird here. I’m not the only woman who has had to recreate a life. But, the real gift, to me, has been knowing I could create something better than ever, not a “settling” for the crumbs.

I’ve been in business for almost three years. What began as a way to take the bull by the horns and create an income for myself in a crappy economy, turned into one of my greatest joys. I’m creating something. I love that. I get to decide, baby. You do too.

I’m in a mutating phase right now. A friend of mine used that word the other day, and I suppose it fits. I’m looking for a prettier word, but drawing a blank. The focus of my business is shifting. Let’s just say that. In a nutshell. I do what I love. I share what I love. And I help others create what they love too. I cook, create and coach. There ya’ go. Everything revolves around that. Wait, I’m not liking the word, “coach”. I like, enCourage. I encourage. And, it is, very much about “courage” too. So, that’s the word……

Someone once said to me, “You surround yourself with beauty. You create beauty all around you.” What a great thing to say! I think he was onto something though. If you just look around, it’s everywhere. So much is a matter of focus. What are you looking for? What do you see? Where do you want to go. How do you want to live?

Back to my point….. is there one? Mutating, right…..I’m refocusing my business. I’m having an open house tentatively scheduled for December 8 to roll out the coming year. It will be a chance for people to meet me, see what I do, sample some treats, see the studio space, sign up for classes, and workshops, etc….It’s going to be fun. I’m excited about it. More information to come…..

But for now, I simply celebrate today, that I’m here. Right where I am. That I love my life. That I love where I live, how I live and what I do. I love that when I went for a run the other day and saw apple trees throughout my neighborhood, it brought memories of a life long past. I was reminded for the hundredth time, that when you think all is lost, many times it’s just the beginning of the best thing ever. Happy Anniversary to me.

*All images from The Thread Studio photo gallery.

Italian Vegetable (Love) Soup

I share this recipe, and the story behind it, from time to time. It’s a really simple soup to make that everyone seems to like. It’s good comfort food with a nice loaf of bread. It’s a good one to share too…… It’s become my “go to” recipe when I want to spread a little love and give it away.

I first had this soup almost three years ago. It’s been almost three years since I lost my home (and ended up in a really beautiful one by the grace of God….) At the time I was trying to pack and be out of my house and I was falling apart. I cannot fully describe what it was like being paralyzed by stress. I was having a hard time packing because my head was full of everything that needed to be done; find a place to live, a job, what to do, stay or go, where to turn……Simply filling boxes was beyond me.

That night my friend, Susan, called and said she was bringing over some soup. I told her not to. I didn’t want to see anybody or deal with people. She said she was coming anyway. She left me with a gallon of this soup, some grated parmesan (very key to the flavor) and a loaf of bread. That soup didn’t last the night. My boys ate it all in one sitting.

Such a simple thing, really, a batch of soup. But, I felt loved, cared for and comforted. I wasn’t alone. Somebody cared enough to cook me some soup. So, whenever I want to spread some warmth and love to someone who needs it, I make this soup. I know it’s corny, but I always call it “Love Soup”.

Today, I am helping pack up a woman with a little boy, who lost her home and the family fortune that was supposed to sustain them forever. She has no job. Isn’t sure where she’s going. Her mom died when she was 16 and her dad died two weeks ago. She is in a very bad position. My heart is going out to her. I know…… I can’t change what’s happening. But, when I go over there this morning, I can bring some soup, and some bread and maybe it will help a little…….

Italian Vegetable Soup

1 pound ground beef       1 cup diced onion   1 cup sliced celery       1 cup sliced carrots            2 cloves garlic, minced     1 can (16 oz.) tomatoes      1 can (15 ounces) tomato sauce            1 can (15 oz) red kidney beans, undrained    2 cups water    5 teaspoons beef bouillon            1 tablespoon dried parsley flakes   1 teaspoon salt     1/2 teaspoon oregano                          1/2 teaspoon sweet basil    1/4 teaspoon black pepper        2 cups shredded cabbage             1 cup frozen or fresh green beans, cut in 1 inch pieces       1/2 cup small elbow macaroni Parmesan cheese

Brown beef in large heavy kettle; drain. Add all the ingredients except cabbage, green beans and macaroni. Bring to boil. Lower heat; cover and simer 20 minutes. Add cabbage, green beans and macaroni; bring to boil and simmer until vegetables are tender. If you prefer a thinner soup, add additional water or broth. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese before serving.

 

A String of Memories

This picture is my favorite of all time. I bring it up fairly often, because it brings up so many memories and emotions for me. It was taken about 4 days after my younger son was born. My family came to visit. Those are my grandmothers, me and my two boys. Everyone has such a distinct expression, I just love the feel of this photo.

Grandma on the right looks like she’d kill anybody who came near her precious package. Her jewel. Her diamond……Grandma in the middle, Mimi we called her, looks like a Cheshire cat. So pleased. I distinctly remember that my hand was on my knee and the table next to me because, four days after having a baby, you just need to give the core a little support ….. :  )

That was our side deck. If you could see to the right of the photo, you’d see acres of horse country. There was a pond and two weeping willows that grew just to the side of it and hung over it. Picture perfect. Our yard was an old orchard. We had 8 apple trees, 3 pear, 1 peach, 1 huge black walnut tree and so many berry bushes we had to take a machete to them just to walk through in the summer. I loved that home. Loved it so much. When we moved from it to come to Colorado I cried so much. Even though I wanted the move, I so loved that magical house. That’s how I thought of it – magical. I thought that was “the” house and I’d never have such a beautiful, magical place to live again…..

I was reminded of this photo because of the apple cake I’ve been making these last few weeks. It’s the recipe I just shared before this post. The first time I made it was in that house, using the apples from my trees. I’m still making it 20+ years later. The little boys in the photo are 16 and 18 now. That recipe brings back all of these memories. It’s amazing how that can happen, isn’t it? Don’t you have some recipes that just bring you back?

I’ve been picking my neighbors apples, with permission, this fall. As I ran yesterday, I noticed that throughout my neighbourhood there are many many apple trees. And, it made me think of my old home that I loved so much and how I never thought I’d have such a wonderful place to live again. And, I realized I was wrong. I love where I am right here right now so much that I am conscious of it every single day. I honestly wake up with thanks in my head every morning.

And, as I ran and saw all the apple trees, it was almost as if God was reminding me of this, of how I thought I’d never love another home as much as the one I had to leave, and I do. And, how I thought when my family fell apart that, that was it. That the magic I had had was gone forever, and I was wrong about that too. And, how I was so scared my boys would be broken, and they aren’t.

And, all of this came back to me because of that apple recipe. I’ve been making it all week because it goes so fast. And, I spread the love……I dropped a package on Sir G’s door step and sent some home with my son to college yesterday. The recipe that brings back so many memories for me, will now be creating memories for my boys. Isn’t that funny how food can do that?

I cannot believe that the kid in this photo at left is the same one standing in the middle at the top, and one apple bread recipe had the power to bring back all these memories of horse country, apple trees, my old property and gratitude that when I thought all was lost, it really wasn’t. Everything goes on, things heal, things grow, everything is okay in the end. And, if I make a simple pan of apple bread with vanilla butter sauce, it takes me back to beautiful places and times.

Apple Cake With Brown Sugar Butter Sauce

 

 

 

 

 

Apple Slice Cake

4C sliced Apples                                                                                                                                  1 3/4 c sugar                                                                                                                                       1c Mazola oil                                                                                                                                       2 beaten eggs                                                                                                                                       2 teaspoon vanilla                                                                                                                              1 c chopped nuts                                                                                                                                  2 c flour                                                                                                                                                1 1/2 teaspoon baking soda                                                                                                           1/2 teaspoon baking powder                                                                                                             2 teaspoon cinnamon                                                                                                                         2 teaspoon salt

Mix oil, sugar, eggs. Mix dry ingredients. Add dry ingredients to wet. Add flavoring, apples, nuts.                                                                                                                                       Pour in 9 x 13 greased pan                                                                                                         Bake at 350 for 45-55 min.

Brown Sugar Butter Sauce

1 stick (8 tablespoons) butter
½ cup brown sugar
¼ cup cream
½ teaspoon vanilla

All you need to do:

Place ingredients in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Boil for 3 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla. Serve warm on top of cake.