Launch successful

Four long days of driving later, we have returned home from setting our oldest out on his own. It’s a scary thing, and I keep going over what we taught him, hoping we didn’t leave out anything terribly important.

I worry that he will get taken advantage of, that he won’t be able to find a job, that he will eat nothing but Top Ramen. At the same time, I hope he has fun, that he meets new people, that he has (safe) adventures. As I await news of how he is settling in, I’m trying to let go and avoid texting every hour to check on him. It is difficult, but I have to let him be an adult, I suppose.

More Pi, please

See? Just on and on with the knitting of the Pi Are Square Shawl. I took this to knit night on Wednesday and I’ve got the feeling I ought to check it very carefully for errors; lace and chatting don’t usually go well together.

In the meantime, I’ve put a few more rounds on my sister’s socks and have started the sleeves on my Featherweight Cardigan. I have another cardigan planned out and the yarn is bagged with the pattern, but I successfully avoided startitis last night — which was difficult because there it was, all ready to cast on and calling to me… But no, must. finish. other. projects. first.

In other news, I went for my first “run” last night. (I use quotation marks because there was more walking than running, but I’m excited nonetheless.) I bought an app for my iPhone – the Couch to 5K – and just grabbed my headphones and hit the sidewalk after dinner. The first fifteen minutes were the hardest but I persevered and by the end I was feeling great (tired, but great). Today I have the exercise hangover, complete with sore muscles and stiffness, but I will be lacing up my sneakers again tomorrow for another “run”. I have no illusions that I will become a marathon runner, but I really need to shed some ballast and should increase my endurance if I’m going to survive another summer of softball and volleyball.

(If you aren’t familiar with the concept of couch to 5k, it is a graduated exercise plan that eases you into running by alternating walking with running over a 9-week period, so that by the end you can run 3 miles without stopping. We’ll see about that.)

Thrifty start

I took the oldest child to a thrift store to get some living-on-your-own basics (all he has, literally, are plates and mugs), and am very happy with what we got for $70:
toaster
frying pan
sauce pan w/ lid
can opener
rubber spatula
pancake turner
mixing bowl
large plastic spoon
whisk
pitcher
silverware service for 4
measuring cups & spoons
small cheese grater
set of queen-size sheets
duvet cover

We are still on the lookout for a cookie sheet and a square baking dish, but otherwise he is set for a wide variety of bachelor meals. We will send him off with a couple towels, a few good knives, and miscellaneous other items, too. He plans on living very simply, which helps a lot.

Flight of the fledgling

The time that parents both anticipate and dread has arrived in our house: our oldest child is preparing to leave the nest. A war of emotions has me vacillating between joy and sorrow, pride and fear. On the one hand I am glad that he is taking this step, becoming independent, striking out on his own. As a young person, he has very little responsibility weighing him down – no school or career commitments, no real bills or obligations; this kind of freedom doesn’t last long and I’m happy that he is able to take advantage of this opportunity and isn’t afraid to try something new. On the other hand, this mommy is having a hard time letting go, accepting that he is old enough to do this daring thing.

Not only is he moving out, he is moving out of state.  He has thoroughly foiled my plans to be the drop-in, unannounced visitor, bearing sacks of groceries and platters of cookies. I wanted to be the slightly-embarrassing but never-far-if-needed mom. The show up on Sunday morning with coffee cake and waffles mom. The come over and clean the kitchen mom.

Instead, I must do this mom thing long distance, by phone and text and internet. Thank goodness for technology. I know he will do great. He is brilliant, capable, and an all-around awesome young man. As happy as I am for him,  I will need plenty of tissues when the big day arrives, no doubt about that.

Digging in the dirt

As January draws to a close, I look towards spring and get a jump start on my garden by planting seeds indoors for those plants that can handle it. Tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, peppers, eggplant, and a couple of herbs all get started inside so that come April they can move outside and I can enjoy their bounty all summer. Root veggies and beans will be sowed directly outdoors on April 1st (past last chance of frost here).

(planning out this year’s garden)

Strung out

I’ve been more or less trying (mostly less) to learn the guitar for, oh, five or six years now. I bought a basic steel string acoustic I affectionately dubbed Big Bertha and signed up for lessons from an ex-rocker, but was having a lot of trouble reaching things on the acoustic  (I have short arms). The instructor suggested I get an electric guitar to learn on since they are so much smaller, so I bought a pretty little locally-made one and took a few more lessons. Booooring!

I don’t want to be a rock star. I really just want to be able to strum some chords and sing along at campfires, maybe pick out some fun folk songs that would horrify my teenagers. The lessons were not keeping my attention and I did what most people would do: I quit. The guitars have been hanging out ever since; now and then I would tune one up and strum a C chord (the only one I could remember), but mostly they gathered dust.

Saturday I took a one-hour class at a Girl Scout event on campfire-style guitar. Super simple, no metronome or complicated fingering exercises or reading music – just some familiar songs with easy chords. Now that’s what I’m talking about! I also realized that an electric guitar is fairly lousy for camp songs, so I pulled Big Bertha off the wall and dusted her off. My fingers felt gross after just a few minutes, so I picked up a new set of string in an extra-light gauge (my fingers were still sore from Saturday) from Emerald City Guitars. Got her all strung up and tuned.

(old, corroded strings on top and shiny new strings on bottom)

I strummed along very, very slowly to a couple easy songs, working my way through A, C, E, and D chords before trying G, F, and Dm. I printed out a basic chord chart, and tonight I will find the music books I bought years ago and see which songs catch my eye.

My fingers aren’t as sore today, and I think if I can give it ten or fifteen minutes most evenings I can accomplish what I was looking for all along. I do think I need a smaller acoustic (still have short arms, plus those pesky female frontal protuberances) and I think I will sell the electric guitar to fund one. There’s no shortage of beautiful made-for-women guitars out there.

Who knows – by summer maybe I can lead our scouts in a rousing rendition of Kumbaya.

(stringing up Big Bertha with a new set of D’Addario phosphor bronze strings)

Going SLS-free

As I take my health into my own hands, I have recently added another crusade: SLS (and SLES), known as sodium laurel sulfate (and sodium laureth (laurel ether) sulfate).

SLS is an inexpensive surfactant, foaming agent, and degreaser – commonly used in cleansers of all kinds, including shampoo and liquid soap (and shower gel). It is also a known skin irritant. Some say it is absorbed into your body and affects hormone levels. Scare-mongers say it causes cancer, but I couldn’t find any supporting evidence of this. I’m mainly doing this because I am obviously sensitive to this ingredient, as I get skin irritation from any products that contain it.

Having finicky skin is why I make my own soap and lotion. It’s why I wash every new article of clothing before I wear it. It’s why I don’t wear foundation makeup. It’s why I’m very careful about what products I do use on my body, and aim for as-close-to-natural-as-possible.

Well, add SLS to the banned list. I have for years been less than thrilled with commercial shampoos but continued to use them. With a head of long, fine, stick-straight hair it is necessary to wash my hair on a daily basis lest I look like I was bobbing for apples in a deep fryer. Thing is, I’ve also been plagued with an itchy scalp; not dandruff, just itchy.  In addition, shampoo strips my hair down to straw which I then have to remedy with copious amounts of conditioner – many of which weigh my hair down. I constantly struggle with split ends, frizzy fly-aways, and breakage.

With lots of research and a bit of experimenting, I have successfully ditched shampoo altogether, in favor of “shampoo soap” and an occasional ACV (apple cider vinegar) rinse.

The results? Total relief of itching, and no grease head. Less frizzies. Absolutely no weighed-down or coated hair. It’s easy to comb out, less prone to static electricity, and I am noticing less breakage and hair loss (based on how much I clean from my hairbrush).  The cherry topping to this happy hair sundae: nobody notices that I’m no longer using shampoo, because my hair is still clean and fresh.

So, what about this “shampoo soap” I mentioned? Well, I’m using one that I made, which is darned close to the regular soap I make, but it is readily availabe from websites that specialize in natural products. I’ve got several recipe tweaks lined up to try, but really – regular (handmade) soap works just fine. Keep in mind that I don’t color or chemically treat my hair, so it’s 100% natural to begin with. Soap has a higher pH level than your skin/hair, and that can strip out some fake coloring so tread with care if you are trying to cover grey. (Blond is a bleach, not a colorant, so there shouldn’t be any problems if you lighten your hair.)

To balance the pH level and smooth the hair shafts, I use a weak ACV rinse a couple days a week. Right now, I don’t even scent it but I do plan on doing a rosemary infusion (rosemary oils is fabulous for your hair and scalp). Even without the ACV rinse, my hair is smoother and easy to comb. It’s squeaky-clean from the shower but not tangled; this took a little getting used to, as I was so accustomed to that snot-slick feel of commercial conditioner, but now that I”m used to it I can’t imagine going back to that gross coating.

Honestly, I’m thrilled with the results. Dumping the itchy scalp and taking a simpler approach to hair care has been a roaring success for me. Now to convert the rest of the house…

Craft show bound

Today I am prepping for a craft show – making lotions, applying labels, packing soap, making signs… Somehow I always put this off to the last possible minute and today is no exception. I love the bustle and variety of items at craft shows and am looking forward to this weekend! For those of you in the area, come check us out. We’re at Country Village, in Bothell, this Friday and Saturday.

Chick’n Coop Crafts

On growing up

As my birthday draws near, I can’t help but reflect on my life a bit. I’m not quite 40 and I hope to live a good long while yet, but there has been a lot of change in my life over the past few years and I feel a touch of maturity setting in (whether by choice or force I don’t yet know). I find myself evaluating my choices, thinking about the future, and appreciating what life has handed out to me even though some of it has been extremely difficult.

I’ve lost several family members, a couple of friends, and pets. I’ve also gained family members, both in recent births and in the sense that I’ve gotten to know and love relatives that had previously been on the periphery of my world. I have a good circle of friends. I’m married to a fabulous man, and our children are growing into wonderful young people. Our little old house keeps us busy, frustrated, and entertained by turns. A multitude of hobbies fill any spare moments. My career is fulfilling. I have such a long list of goals, dreams, desires, and plans that I shall never grow bored.

All in all, I find a deep sense of peace in the current state of my life – though it is hectic, it is my life and I can either embrace it and be happy, or let myself fill up with worry and regret. Perhaps it’s the recent losses that make me appreciate what I have. Perhaps it’s the clock ticking me closer to middle age. Perhaps it’s the changing season. Whatever the reason, I choose to make the best of what’s been draped around my shoulders.

And that, perhaps, is the feeling of maturity.

Getting out of Dodge

To celebrate our anniversary, we decided to get out of town. That is a nice thing about having teenagers – it is so much easier to go somewhere and leave them at home.
This year we are taking the train and will then either walk or take public transportation to get around. We don’t have any specific plans; this is a play-it-by-ear weekend, the best kind.