I wish it were my job to build giant vegetables

Remember that giant artichoke?  Well, there's asparagus too.  I worked on these two objects for about a month I guess, but I haven't been able to post their progress because I'm blog friends (and real friends) with the recipient: Heidi at Hands Occupied.  She knew I was making them, but I wanted the whole package to come as a surprise.  It was almost an even bigger surprise: it was delivered to the wrong house, but eventually made its way to its new home.

My lovely photographer friend took lots of pictures so I could someday begin a portfolio.  TONS of pictures after the jump.

Get out of the house and do something

Yeah, it's like this.

Too many blank, white days have passed with nothing accomplished, so today I set out on foot to visit a friend. We walked a total of 5 miles today, shopped out some of her awesome felt goodies, and got some work done in her studio.  J decided to give me my Valentine's gift early, on account of the snow day.  As soon as I saw the box, wrapped in paper from the local bookstore, I knew what it was and started jumping up and down.  A tiny box/book of softie patterns, perfect practice for making 3D fabric sculptures! The Softies Kit (I didn't know what a softie was, but I guess it's what I've been making) is adorable, with 15 patterns for cute things ranging from elephants to ham bones.

 

A side-by-side comparison shows that I am still practicing.

I sent off the artichoke and asparagus (I haven't posted too much about them, because the bride-to-be they're for reads this blog-- could be reading and sniffling right now) on Thursday, and I got a call that they've arrived in Michigan!  Total relief-- what kind of insurance can you get on handmade awesomeness?  They loved them, so mission accomplished.  I'll do a post on the making of them soon.

Work has been cancelled for the 7th time in the past 3 weeks, so I'm in the middle of a 5-day weekend.  This is the mother of all get-out-of-jail-free cards of adulthood, so I'm making the most of it.  I've dove head-first into a mound of snow.  Drank a lot of Bailey's.  Going to have beers and watch an improv show.  Made an elephant.  Written some blog posts.  Watched  LOT of Louis CK.  And frankly, thought a lot about things I'm good at and how I need to work really hard to hone my little talents so I can do something amazing with them.    But now I'm going to trounce around in the snow some more in my lovely plastic bag boots.

Snowed in with the one I love

Bonnie "Prince" Billy and the Cairo Gang's The Wondershow of the World* is the album I'll be listening to on repeat all day.  I don't usually post about music, because I have no way of explaining why I like a certain song to convince someone to listen to it, but this is one that always makes my heart feel tender.  The line, "Will you love me if I change?" makes me think of Simply Bored's comment in the guest post a few days ago: would we have done the things we say we'd have done if we hadn't made a decision to stick to someone else? What would we find out about ourselves, when we really ask, What would I have accomplished otherwise?  Would I be here, with J, if I'd done the things I convince myself I regret not doing?  Would he still love me, or even have found out he loved me, if I'd gone away and come back a year later.  Who will I be if I decide to start being more honest to myself about what I can achieve?  If I am as successful as my what ifs? will it lead me somewhere that I can't be with him anymore?


Did passing up a good opportunity get me where I am today, and can I admit that giving something up and gaining a wonderful relationship isn't as retrograde as rationality tells me?  Can I not be ashamed to honestly say, If I had gone for it, I would not be here?  Here, where I don't have a career, am not multi-lingual, not fiercely independent, defined somewhat by my relationship?  Where being someone's wife can't be chipped out from what I truly am?  Why is being a woman, in love with a man, caught up in so many feelings of guilt and looked upon with condescension? I can't change the world in that respect, but I can change the way I react to it.  It is so much harder to learn to ignore something, than to rail against it.


With Cornstalks or Among Them


Where were you again tonight? 
(with cornstalks or among them) 
Moonless night my love burned bright. 
(o out among them) 


I'm not impressed by fields of cane. 
Our house is good to me, and plain. 
Happiness can live here still, 
if coming back you only will. 


Or I can fnd you out among 
(o out among them) 
and sleep next to you and hear it sung 
(o out among them). 
I have saved enough that I can go. 
But where to find you, I don't know. 


Please to fnd me, here I am 
(with cornstalks or among them),
 devoured by fields unmade by man 
(o out among them). 
You love me still, although it's strange. 
Will you love me if I change? 


There was one life with you before, 
and one life more, and one life more. 




*Follow the link to all those songs on youtube. If you are similarly snowed in, please listen to some of these songs.  And then if you are really sad on account of it, see him and Zach Galifianakis's version of Can't Tell Me Nothin' by Kanye West.  But don't watch this video until you've listened to some of his music. It is amazing to listen to that beauty and then see that video and wonder, "Who the fuck is this person?"

The Trailing/Traveling Spouse talks $$$

Slate has a five-part series on how to manage money as a couple, which has made me think J and I need to talk about some stuff.  Currently we are what the article refers to as Sometimes Sharers, meaning we make our own money, keep it in separate accounts, but use a shared credit card for shared expenses.  It's also reminded me that I currently am a really bad budgeter for a lady in her late 20s.  That is, I don't budget at all, and I've regulated my spending pace so that I never really look at my account.  I think about this every few months and say I'm going to start paying attention to my Mint account, but this never happens.

Currently, J has everything in his name because he lived in our current house before I moved in. So, we pay for shared expenses on a shared credit card, and at the end of the month he splits everything in two and I write him a check.  I don't have to answer for my craft store splurges, but I do have to answer for the accidental priority shipping of a 10-pound wedding gift this weekend.

When we move, all of that will change. As much as talking about money makes this grey, cold day seem drearier, I'll probably feel better if we break the ice on our finances.  I really don't want our first fight about money to happen when I'm in a new town without a job.  I told J I don't want to have an allowance, and he said, "You won't get an allowance-- BECAUSE I AM SO MEAN!" Oh, I love that man.

Guest Post: Freeze-dried

Freeze-Dried is a female grad student on-her-way-out-of-the-twenties. She's into SF/F, food, hugs and some (albeit very little) exercise. She is Mostly Harmless and can be reached at frozendry.at.gmail.com.

Dear A.b.,

Ever since you’ve invited me to do a guest post in this space, I’ve been wondering about what I can say as a traveling spouse that you haven’t already – incredibly honestly and eloquently – addressed.  And I’m convinced that I can’t do an abstract idea-post related to being a traveling spouse*. My solution, forgive my indulgence, is to focus on me.

A couple of years ago, I decided to follow my partner, (not just because it is the right thing to do**), but because I wanted to***. At the time, although I was in a job that I thoroughly enjoyed, I hadn’t really begun to think of it as a career. After an initial wave of uncomfortable dependence (that passed with support from the spouse), I eventually maneuvered my way into my first unplanned “home-maker” year. I learnt to cook. I also learnt how not to trip over one’s laundry, and how to fold clothes (no, it is an ancient art, really) and sometime down that road, found out that I really wanted to find a career in the academe.

But more recently - sometime over the Christmas break, actually - I discovered that a lot of who I am has come to be built around one relationship. To most people that meet me now, I’m a spouse before I’m a person, much more in fact than P is. This is significantly different from our pre-travelling situation. Back then (it does feel like ages ago), I was an individual / a woman before anything else. I suspect a lot of this difference has to do with having chosen a dependent life.

Between commuting to work, hanging out with P and getting stuff done for school, for want of both time and interest, I do very little else. Consequently, new people meet me as a role rather than as a person. On the other hand, P, given the nature of his job and of our situation still has a more independent life than me. For instance, he meets people at his workplace as a so-and-so-specialist and the dynamics of a job allow for development of (a certain kind of) familiarity, while grad school can be very immersive and isolating.

Anyway, people meet P as an individual / a man before meeting him as a spouse.

[Okay, now is a good time for that interjection: P works his job (although he’d rather be pursuing his art), so that we can have the life that we do. For this, he has my highest respect. I must clarify that this post should in no way suggest that he is insensitive or otherwise oblivious to my concerns.]

Meet my freaking-the-fuck-out moment: In my own mind, I have become a spouse who is incidentally, doing other things.

Self, meet Insecurity. Insecurity, meet Self.

For me, this realization has been attended by some seriously debilitating angst, helplessness, and – surprise, surprise, possessiveness – the kind that has, in the past, made me run in the opposite direction. Coming to terms with this idea (that despite all the things I do, even I think of myself as a spouse first) hasn’t been easy. It means un-learning some things and re-learning some others. It means walking out of this comfort zone of a secure and familiar identity (that I didn't even realize I was building) and learning to be at home with the unknown. And perhaps most scarily, it means having to do this – being a traveling spouse – without losing myself.

A dear friend (who re-appeared quite of the blue to buoy me through this very personal crisis) said, “Being possessive is okay. But what matters is what you do when they’re around and what you do with yourself when they are not.” All suggestiveness aside, that’s my new goal. Yes, with the traveling spouse deal as it is, I don’t necessarily know how, if at all, I can have a completely independent identity without going back to a non-nomadic lifestyle. Hell, I don’t even know how I’m going to work at this.

But, I’m determined to atleast try.

Footnotes: 

*’cause almost everything about being one is so personal, init?

**Which is an expectation where I come from

*** A complete distrust of long-distance relationships may also have had something to do with this decision.

(Freeze-dried)

Mists, Bells, Soccer Balls

Lazy Sunday!  We spent another morning in the coffeeshop, me reading The Mists of Avalon (so perfect for being snowed in!) and J editing chapters.  I love to look over at him scribbling on pages of crazy science, witnessing him slowly coming to the end of this stressful time.  The road our house is on is almost unfrozen, but was too small for the snowplow to get past.  Instead, it tried to come through, pushed up an impassable ridge of snow, and backed out again.  I should be thankful I haven't had anything to do that requires the car.

So, other than reading today I've done a fat lot of nothing.  I recently found an old baoding ball necklace I bought when I was a pre-teen, and have been twirling it around my fingers while I read.  It is the most beautiful sound in the world (hear it here).  I did some internet sleuthing and figured out how the bell works.  Here's what it looks like on the inside:

I also found out that the study of bells is campanology.  I'll add campanologist to my list of dream professions with candy designer, parade float maker and professional direction-giver.

Tomorrow I have promised my wonderful new library friend that I will play on a soccer team with her.  I think it is only 2 or 3 games, but I'm concerned that my inability to play soccer, as well as the below-freezing temperatures may impact my drive to win. That drive is pretty low, anyway.  I was a goalie long, long ago, but it's going to take more than me watching a few youtube videos to prevent me from embarrassing myself.  Seriously, if you toss a pen at me I duck.

Tomorrow get ready for a guest post from my Ghost of Christmas Future, Freeze Dried.

Future Landlords

I am way more interested in photographing snowflakes.

Did I say our old landlord had already sold our  house? Not so fast.  The paperwork was finally turned in, but filled out incorrectly so it's February 5th and we don't know who to send our rent check to.   Zoinks!  We stopped by our neighbors' house (future landlords, nice people) and got to talk about what a nut the old landlord is, and I got to hold a baby for a while.  I was surprised at how little I minded being plastered with baby spit, or having my nostril yanked.  I think the only reason babies like me is my glasses (also covered in baby spit).

While we were talking to her, the husband was over at our house shoveling the walk from our door to our driveway.  We'd just gotten back from the coffeeshop and had to immediately jump and help (he had brought over an extra shovel).  We hadn't shoveled anything for a few reasons: one, we don't own a snow shovel because this NEVER happens; two, because it keeps snowing and I am not Sisyphus; four, we were getting around fine on the snow, which isn't slippery; and four, if you shovel your own sidewalk, it seems dickish not to keep going and do a whole block.  So, we couldn't tell if he just really likes doing yardwork so much that he crept into our yard, or he was passive-aggressively saying that if we're his tennants, we'd better get on that.  I was leaning towards the first explanation, but it gave J a Manly-Man Responsibility Complex.  He was worried about having our landlords right across the street, "and this is why," he said, referring to the marathon snow-rearranging.

I mean, we don't own a snow shovel, and I really doubt they will require us to go and purchase one when it may not snow like this for another decade.  There's more snow in the forecast, and I'm hoping it will cover up the icy sidewalks that were previously covered in nice, non-slippery snow.

It's kind of cute that J thinks he needs to "man-up" on yardwork when he thinks the landlord is judging him.  So silly.

28 Days of Blogging

I'm attempting a blog post a day for February, egged on by my friend at Freeze Dried.  I already missed February 1st, but I didn't know about it then, and it was the first snow day so I had s(no)w-work fever.

 Today is the first day back on campus since Monday, and we didn't have to be here until 9:30.  That gave me and J time for one last late  breakfast and we got to walk to work together.  Penguin-walking, because this town doesn't have any budget for inclement weather plans, and the roads and sidewalks were still pretty crappy.  As of this writing, it is snowing again.  I'm doing my best to get work done (writing a blog post on the side isn't productive, I know) but it's hard with my student employees yacking about the snow and me wondering if I need to tell other employees to just not come in.  I haven't had to deal with weather safety too much in my time here, but now I feel like it's up to me whether to make these students drive/bus up here.  If the University thinks it's safe enough to be open, I guess I should trust my employees to get here.

J and I talked a little last night about The Future.  He said he felt selfish in his current path.  I think it counts that he actually thinks about that, and it's not selfish if I said I'm ok with it.  Plus, I've gone this far with him, and I want to see it to the end (or at least the beginning of the next step, with a job).  And, on a sort of sad note, I've built my current life around what he's doing, so I'd be totally out to sea if he abandoned it.  I guess if he went into industry we'd still move (I don't like to think about how I would react if I found out we would not leave our current town) so really  he should do what will make him happiest in his career.  He's worked so long I think he deserves to have a job that fulfills him.  Just because I'm unhappy at my job doesn't mean I want him to be brought down with me.    We could both use a change of scenery.

Yay! Step one! Eat it, Boehner and Shitty Democrats!

The various campaigns to strike a re-definition of rape from HR3 have had their first success: the wording has been taken out, but it's still a heinous bill.  Laugh at twitter, but it can get fiery.  Keep calling and writing your senators and don't stop thinking about people who have less than you-- be that money, privilege, access or power-- and how this affects them.  Here's some Kristen Schaal on The Daily Show to remind us all how effing stupid and mean people can really be.  J just declared this video "semi-epic".  I agree:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Rape Victim Abortion Funding
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog The Daily Show on Facebook

Tiger Beatdown's latest post has the list of the shitty Dems who decided to vote yes on HR3, one of which is, of course, from Arkansas.  Hello Mike Ross!  So, I went to his website to see if I could shoot off a "You sir, are a douchebag" letter, and lo and behold, even if you type in a zipcode that applies to his district, you still can't send an email.  The contact form just loops back to the same spot, and the code is messed up.  So, if you can hear this, MIKE ROSS, YOU SIR, ARE A DOUCHEBAG.  I spare no eloquence in these matters.

Going back to work tomorrow, just in time to start dreaming about the weekend. Thanks snow!

Snow Day #2

6 inches of snow? NO ONE driving on our road.

Too many projects going on, nothing getting done.

I went with friends to work out on Monday afternoon, and received a call that the whole university would be closed on Tuesday.  Magic.  Then I received a call on Tuesday for the Wednesday closing. More magic.  I have spent these two snow days (not ice days, fortunately) working on a puzzle and doing some light housework.

First puzzle since I was a kid. Strangely satisfying.

I told myself I'd spend these days (if they happened) doing really productive things, like starting on the next sewing project (large floor pillow).  Nope.  The snow is really nice, power isn't going out from the very light ice and we've got enough good food to keep us happy.  It's good getting to spend this much time with J.  Some free time is good for him.  So far, he's made a batch of kombucha, biscuits and yogurt.  And not once talked about work.  He seems relaxed, and even started working on his food blog!

On Monday I got an email from Heidi at Hands Occupied asking if I might write some guest posts while she moves with her (future) husband in the summer. I am thrilled.  We've got some things in common in the "trailing spouse" department, so I'm really glad to be her sounding board, and vice versa, about identity/marriage/moving issues.  However, she'll be very likely taking that step before me.

Heidi's fiance is an excellent craft helper with their ribbon wall.

[UPDATE: we are closed for Thursday, too. As an adult, I don't think I can ever hope for such luck again.]

Photo by Chris Clanton