by Amy | Jul 2, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Living, The Art of Projects, the house
I love having fresh flowers around the house. My gardens are finally alive with color, which has made this the perfect time to start picking lots of blooms.
Tonight I thought I’d let you in on a super easy was to keep your cut stems looking vibrant for as long as possible.
My grandmother told me this. Actually–she wrote it to me during her final months as she battled a cancer that took away her voice box. So when I was visiting she would communicate on little pads of paper. It wasn’t the quickest method. But it worked. She was an avid gardener. I don’t know how it came up, but she once asked if I knew how to keep cut flowers looking fresh. {Obviously not.}
She told me her favorite trick was to pour a little soda–the clear kinds, like ginger ale, Sprite or 7 Up–into the vase. No more than a quarter cup will do the trick. Flowers crave sugar that they soak up from their roots and other parts of the plant. Once cut, they lose that source of sugar. So keeping some in the water will help them thrive in your living room.
I asked about just mixing some sugar into the water {I’m not much of a soda drinker, usually.} She said that is a technique that some people use…but it’s better to use soda. Granulated sugar, even when mixed in, can clog the pores in the stems.
Give it a try. It’s an easy tip to know that will make you look like a gardener extraordinaire.
Amy
by Amy | Jun 30, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Living
So I had surgery.
On my back.
I thought I’d tell you a little bit about it.
It started with a late night and early morning. You see, surgery was Thursday…and we had volunteered to host the Wednesday night youth group at our house. So when I got a call from the hospital, telling me that my surgery was booked for 7:10 am, with a 5:45 am show time…I almost threw up. The surgery was in Bismark–nearly 2 hours south of Minot. So we left after youth group, had a short night’s sleep, and arrived bright and early–ready for the knife.
Now, this is the most serious surgery I’ve ever had. And here is something I learned. Everyone wants your pee. Blood too–but mostly pee. I have given so many strangers my pee in a cup I’m starting to lose count. At my initial appointment for back pain they wanted it to be sure the pain wasn’t caused by pregnancy. {Nope.} Then I gave it to them at my pre-op. Then at 5:45 in the morning they needed it again. Just to triple check I’m not pregnant. {Still nope.}
The next thing I learned is that thinking about someone cutting {really cutting, with sharp tools} around your spine is really intimidating. No matter how brave I tried to be, or how much I had been looking forward to this day…sitting in a paper dress with needles in my arms and those gorgeous, blue hospital socks on my feet…my heart was racing and I had that sick-dread feeling running through my veins. The anesthesiologist came in and explained how his job worked. Then asked me if I needed anything for nerves “now.” I turned him down. Then, when the door shut I immediately regretted it.
But soon enough the time had come. I took my contacts out and left them with Derek {like a total idiot I left my glasses on my night stand…in Minot.} Then they carted me back to a very scary hospital-show-worthy OR. It was so bright and white. But I don’t remember much of that. As soon as they kicked the brakes on there was Nurse Barbie {as I referred to her, because she was so stinkin’ pretty and had the cutest glasses–oh how I wish I hadn’t forgotten my glasses–I’d ever seen} to load me up with happy-meds.
After that, I only remember a couple outbursts of obnoxious laughter {from me} while I tried to answer questions that I was sure they knew the answers to themselves. Then, it was the dimness of the recovery room. Two {very blurry} nurses were messing with a machine next to me, terrible pain in my back, and horrific, shooting pains through my right hip. That’s when I remembered what was going on. I moved my feet. Still working. Praise God! I’ve never been so happy to move my feet. In the back of my mind I really thought maybe, just maybe something would go terribly wrong and I’d be paralyzed forever.
I remembered the advice the nurse had given me before I went to the OR, “Remember, when you are all done, they won’t automatically give you more pain medicine. Tell them if you are hurting and they’ll put it through your IV.”
I found some words and strung them together–in what I am sure was not a proper sentence–to tell them I was in pain. What I wanted to say was that I felt like someone had backed over me with a bus, stopped to steal my organs, then drove over me again. But I just said “I hurt.”
While they worked to make me a little more comfortable, I rubbed my eyes…which were covered in sticky, slimy goo. The pros told me that’s from when they taped my eyes closed during surgery. Oh, sure, no big deal…but could I have a towel please? My eyes feel like they’ve been in a scene from Ghost Busters.
Around this time I took inventory on the rest of my body. Outside of the noxious soreness I felt great. No shooting nerve pain down my legs and up my back. Pain that I’d practically forgotten about because it had become so normal was gone. Really gone.
And it hasn’t come back. Eventually that day I was returned to Derek and release to go home. I could even stand up to get dressed. I had an appetite {so we stopped at my favorite pizza place in Bismarck}. The ride home was borderline miserable. But since then I’ve been feeling better and better. Groggy from the pain meds–a little cranky because I’m always so groggy–but better. Sleeping well. Taking it easy. No lifting. No bending. No twisting.
Thanks for all your prayers! I have felt them and so appreciate every single one.
Amy
by Amy | Jun 9, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Adventure, The Art of Living
The response my sister sent me in a text took me by surprise. I’d done something on a bit of a whim. It was a shot in the dark, but I thought I’d text her to ask if she’d like to join in. Now, joining would require a 6 hour drive that would need to commence in about 8 hours from the time of the text. But I thought I’d ask.
So, as I said, I was surprised by the response.
YES.
I sent the text from a booth in the Twin City Grill {eating the best mac ‘n’ cheese you’ll ever taste} inside the Mall of America.
Katie and I were on our way to one of my all time favorite places in the whole-wide-world: Noah’s Ark Water Park. You may remember that we went there last year too. Photo via Noah’s Ark’s FB page.
After much debate on when we should go, if the weather would be warm enough and how we should split the drive, we decided at the last moment, just to go ahead and make the drive. Over dinner, it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe Erin could join us. After all, school is out and kindergarten is over for the summer. So I asked.
YES.
Let me tell you. We had the best time. The weather threatened rain, but held off until three. The cloudy weather and being so early in the season, meant the crowds were slim. In our four hours at the park together we did all the slides. And our favorites more than once. Noah’s Ark really rocks in a major way. Let’s just say it is well worth the 12 hour drive from Practically Canada.
When I told Erin I was really shocked she decided to come so last minute she informed me that this is her “Summer of Yes.”
I like that idea.
Saying “yes” this summer. To fun, and new and exciting, and spontaneous. Saying it as much as you can. I like it and I’m going to try it.
That night we stayed in an adorable motor lodge near the Wisconsin Dells called the WilloWood Inn. It’s decked to the nines in 60’s nostalgia and home to a couple of adorable cats. {One just happens to be a bit…big boned.}
The next morning Katie and I took a walk while Erin slept a bit. We grabbed some coffee and split company. Twelve hours and a Culver’s stop later I was back in Minot. One “yes” of summer down. It was a long drive, a short trip and an amazing time.
So worth it.
Amy
by Amy | May 30, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Living
I think we can all agree that life doesn’t always follow our self-designed plans and paths. My friend Molly is no exception. {You might remember her from our 15 Ways to Clean Like a Pro post.} That’s why I love her and I love this story. I find her endlessly interesting because she is in love with her work. I don’t know that I’ll ever tire of talking with people about their passions and how they found them.
Delving into Molly’s head was such a treat. Her journey to her passion and success took turns and twists and included a few seasons of confusion. But she came out on top. Let’s look at her, and learn how to follow the lead she has set up for us.
Molly cleans. You might remember her from a post I put up a bit ago with some awesome cleaning tips. That’s her. She cleans and she loves it.
Recently I was at her apartment with another friend and the night soon turned from pizza and frozen bananas to a lesson on cleaning dried toothpaste off of mirrors and the best way to keep your faucet sparkling. She really loves it. A gleam comes into her eyes, she likes talking cleaning, she likes seeing things go from grimy to glistening. To Molly, it is fun. I think that’s a big part of mastering the art of living: knowing what gets you jazzed and finding a way to keep doing it over and over. After that night, I knew she was doing something very, very right. So I asked her if I could go to work with her one day and pick her brain. Like the awesome friend that she is, she obliged.
I followed her out to the Practically Canadian country side to a very {very} large log cabin style home. It was stunning. Hunting lodge-woodsy decor made me feel like I’d stepped into a mountain resort. Hanging from the living room rafters was a swing. A swing. So cool. I knew coming to work with Molly was a great idea.
Like lots of high school seniors Molly planned to go to college. Because, well, for a lot of us…that’s just what comes next. When she thought about what she should study, she looked to her interests. Deep down, what she loved most was being with people, acting as a listening ear and offering support. She thought about turning that passion, and a natural knack for it into a counseling job. As she entered her freshman year, she selected social work as her major.
As time went on and she dove into courses, she found that she wasn’t happy. No, she was miserable. She told me she’d sit up at night pouring over the university’s course lists, reading detailed descriptions of majors–waiting for one to reach out and grab her. None did.
There had to be a reason nothing was sticking out to me.
She started to think about the possibility of leaving higher education, a notion that was foreign to her. But as she prayed over what to do next, she told me she was stressed all the time–except when she prayed and thought about taking “time off.” Peace came when she thought, prayed and considered leaving school. So she did.
She was discouraged after leaving college. As she moved into the future with no real plan, she felt judged by the people in her world, for abandoning the “correct” next step in life. She took a job cleaning and helping out at a local bed and breakfast. But that came to an abrupt halt in 2011 when, what folks up here refer to as The Flood hit and closed the property.
Molly told me all of this as she polished the stainless steel in one of the most beautiful kitchens I’ve ever sat in. When she was finished with the fridge it looked like we were in a Whirlpool appliance ad. She stepped away to return her rag to its caddy, then paused and added,
I didn’t have a plan for the future. But even though I didn’t have a plan, I could hear God saying, “It’s okay–I have a plan for you.“
It’s one of the most profound things I’ve been told. Especially considering she was only 19 when all this went down.
She took some time away to visit family, then picked up a summer job working on a construction site doing clean up {of all things.} Then one afternoon she was hanging out with two older ladies, friends of her grandmother. Jean and Marlys. Molly and Marlys were helping Jean clean up her house as she prepared to move to an assisted living facility. Molly told me it was during this afternoon that they asked her bluntly what she planned to do. She couldn’t keep drifting from job to job, and they knew construction wasn’t her ideal workplace.
Molly didn’t know.
They asked what she liked and why. They observed that she was naturally talented at cleaning, something she really loved. Then they encouraged her to branch out on her own, to make a job for herself. That same afternoon Marlys placed Molly’s first ad online {she’s pretty tech-savvy.} Soon after, Molly was in business and it’s been that way ever since.
Molly told me that in a lot of ways cleaning allows her to do all the things she enjoys most. Best of all, her job has allowed her to become that listening ear and shoulder-to-cry-on she always longed to be. Coming in to a home requires a certain level of trust. Once in, she finds that many people are put at ease and become comfortable talking to her about hard topics, like life, loss and God.
Cleaning homes allows her to connect with people on an intimate level. “I come to the door and see women who normally always put together wearing no makeup and pajama pants.” She told me it’s an honor to think that people are that comfortable with her. She loves that cleaning genuinely helps people, and points out that when you feel good and confident about your home, other things will follow.
She admitted to me that at first she saw her new undertaking as “just cleaning.” It didn’t take long to realize that it was much more than that. God has used her as a strong witness to all of her clients. Amazingly, she told me that nearly every single one of her clients has spoken with her at one time or other about spiritual needs, topics or curiosities. Molly says that if she wasn’t in the home, cleaning, those opportunities would never have arisen.
She takes pride in leaving the home sparkling and fresh, but is most fulfilled when she can offer comfort to the people living there. As she talked about her clients that she cares so deeply for, I realized that she is so much more than just a “cleaner” to the many people who invite her into their homes. And to her, they are much more than simply “clients.” They are friends, people she cherishes.
Molly is a prime example of how when we trust God, He will perfectly put our skills to effective use that will bring us joy and serve Him well.
Recently Molly has given her expanding business an official name: Victory Cleaning. I find this very appropriate, because she brings victory into the home in so many ways: victory over grime, stress, life, and best of all..the victory offered to all of us through Christ.
xo
Amy
PS–Keep your eyes out for more from Molly. I know this graphic designer who is currently working on creating a logo for her and will soon be assisting in a business page set up.
by Amy | May 10, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Art, The Art of Living
I’ll be honest with you. {As usual…I like telling you how it is.} I haven’t had the best week. I started to write about it. But then I stopped. Because writing is a happy thing that I do. And I wasn’t being positive or happy or uplifting or having an artful day.
And, although I strongly dislike the movie Bambie {remember this is a judgement free zone}, I agree with the sentiment that if you don’t have anything nice to say…you shouldn’t say anything at all.
Thanks Thumper.
Now I have lots of nice things to say. Today was lovely. It was the kind of day that reminds me that there is art in everyday existence. In the pretty things all around us and in the way we spend our moments.
The amount of work stacked up on my computer to get done has gone down a bit, so I was able to devote a good chunk of the day to things outside the screen. Instead of telling you about this lovely day…let me show you.
I sketched and painted up some drafts for a paint-along party I’ll be hosting here at my house on the 19th. I haven’t painted in probably a full year. Once I started I had a really hard time stopping. I missed it. And I think I’ll do more. Lately, I’ve been drooling over Rifle Paper’s designs…so you can see that her work had a heavy influence on me.
Tonight Derek is having the group of high school guys he works with on Wednesday nights over for a night of food and fun. So when I was done painting…I started working on the preparations for my first cookout of the season. {Will the presentation be lost on teenage boys? Probably. But I don’t care.}
The guys are even planning to watch a movie on the screen outside. My fingers are crossed that this nice weather hangs on from here on out.
Have a lovely Friday night. Have you sent your mom something yet?
xo
Amy
by Amy | May 1, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Living, The Art of the Kitchen
Recently I helped out with a funeral at church. I have to say, it was quite a privilege. I mean, I spent all of my growing up years watching at the “church ladies” serving our congregation…making Swiss steak dinners, doing dishes after the pancake breakfast {naturally using those adorable church dish towels that all church kitchens seem to have}, working concession stands at the fair. As much as I dislike admitting that I’m a grown up, it’s very exciting to finally be one of those “church ladies” who is serving. I think is suits me.
This story is not, however, about church lady nostalgia. It’s the latest edition of Practically Canada Culture Shock.
Okay, I’ll admit…I’ve never written specifically about the PraCan culture shock. But I should have started a long time ago. Over the last year {almost 2!} I’ve alluded to how drastically different things are up here in the great, white north. It’s different like I didn’t know different can be. And the most charming thing about it is that the folks up here don’t even realize it’s quirky or offbeat.
They don’t realize that “normal” 80-something year old women don’t typically make social calls without complaint in -60 degree wind chills. It never crosses their mind to think that skirts and cropped pants aren’t usually worn in the “heat wave” of a 40 degree day. They poke fun at Wisconsin accents…but insist that rag is pronounced “reg” and bag is properly said “beg.” A casserole is a “hot dish” and the correct response to hearing about a friend’s weekend away is “Oh, for fun.”
It’s a different world up here.
I’ve seen a lot and been surprised by a ton. But nothing has taken me aback as much as the funeral food I prepared from behind the counter of First Baptist Church Minot.
I was put on sandwich duty. When I was shown buns, ham, and chicken I thought everything looked pretty regular. I should have known better. This isn’t Indiana, Florida, Oklahoma or anywhere else. This is PraCan…so there’s always a twist.
Sandwich instructions:
One bun split open. Spread margarine liberally one the upper half. Add one piece of lunch meat. Close bun. Place on tray.
Just meat and fake butter?!
Yep. And we made trays of them.
Next up, I was taught to make open faced sandwiches. Now, where I come from this means a bun split open with hot roast beef or turkey, topped off with mashed potatoes and covered in gravy. Or something vaguely similar.
Now, hang on tight. What I’m about to describe is not for the weak stomached. In Practically Canada, an open faced sandwich is made like this:
One half of a sandwich bun. Add a thick spread of Cheese Whiz. Top with sliced green olives from a jar. Eaten cold.
Folks, I cannot make this stuff up. And we made trays of them. And get this…they were the first to be eaten. When the mourners came down from the funeral service to the luncheon I saw folks stacking two or three of these bad boys on their plate. The ladies in the kitchen with me reminisced about how much they love open face sandwiches, and it’s such a bummer that they are only eaten at funerals.
What?!
It’s a funeral food. What I can surmise is that this delicacy is something quite special. While to the average PraCan outsider it may look like a disgusting sodium trove, to the natives its ceremony. Like the Matzah Ball on Passover. Like mulled wine at Christmas.
A friend who happens to be about my age, and not a native, came through the food line. I was busy on the other side of the counter pouring lemonade from one of those class church-kitchen-pitchers.
“Did they make you eat one of the open-faced sandwiches?”
“No one could ever make me to that. That is straight up nasty. Why do they eat that?”
“I don’t know. It’s funeral food. Maybe it’s like the bitter herbs of Passover. It reminds them of bad times and makes them feel sad inside.”
That’s a theory. And I think it’s pretty viable. It made me sad just to make them. I guess there are some things that separate the wanna be Practically Canadians from the natives.
xo
Amy
by Amy | Apr 29, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Living
Something I get asked a lot is “How do you get so much done on your own?” As in, how do I stay so self motivated and self disciplined to get all the things done that I heap on top of my life. I’ve always been a busy bee. It’s just kind of how I roll. But lately I’ve thought about the things that really help me stay self motivated and the things that drag me down. {Especially after my lent promise.}
Tonight I’ve put together five things that help me remain motivated and push me to get lots of stuff accomplished. {Not just thought about.}
1. Set parameters
It’s easy to think that you are more disciplined than you really are. If you are anything like me you may start the day thinking “Oh, I’ll just leave the TV on as background noise…” Next thing you know you are working at half speed, and convincing yourself that you can wait until the end of “one more episode” before moving on to your next task. Understand yourself and set up parameters so that you don’t fall into those traps.
Make your work parameters reasonable. Find a way to hold yourself accountable to it.
2. Pick out some healthy rewards
I’m a huge fan of healthy rewards. Everyone knows the concept of a reward system. But if you are giving your self a junky prize after a job well done, you are setting yourself up for failure. I have found that self discipline grows fastest when we extend it even to our indulgences. Now, I’m not saying you should never treat yourself. You should! But–I think those treats should happen when you’ve given it some thought and are responsibly treating yourself.
You shouldn’t hinge your productivity and progress on unhealthy indulgences…and your unhealthy habits should hinge on your productivity. Eventually, you’ll find that a bowl of ice cream after every much accomplished day is making you feel fat, lethargic and not at your best. From there, you’ll find that your reward isn’t as desirable…and your productivity will wane.
Instead of rewarding yourself with unhealthy treats, think about some good-for-you prizes that you enjoy. This method got me all the way through college with a consistant spot on the Dean’s List and I never put on the dreaded freshman 15. For example, I love being outside and going to the gym. Most days I’d set a homework or reading goal. When I’d reached it I would go to the gym or for a walk outside…or better yet, play sand volley ball with friends. If I didn’t reach the goal, I stayed in and finished.
Now I use other things {especially since my back gave out last month.} When I get my daily work done I spend some time playing the piano, playing a board game with Derek {you know how I love those} or working on a DIY project {which, to me is much more fun than working on a computer.}
Consistently rewarding yourself with good things will keep you motivated and train you to view healthy payoffs as things worth working for.
3. Create realistic goals
To me, there is nothing more frustrating than failing. Wait…there is: failing regularly. Seriously, I can’t think of a worse feeling that spending day, after day, after day feeling like you’ve failed. I’ve been in that situation and it is no fun. None at all.
I used to look out upon my day and imagine all the things I could get done. The looong list of everything I needed to do and a whole 24 hours to do it. So I’d start whittling away the task list. Then life would get in the way. Derek would come home from work early and want to go for a walk {why would I turn that down?}, a gal from the high school youth group would call me with a broken heart in need of a cookie and some conversation and prayer, my computer pooped out, something that should have only taken an hour ended up taking several…
What I’m saying is, I spent a long time making a list of “daily tasks” and I failed. Every. Single. Day. It stunted my productivity. It made me crabby. I’d get mad because when things came up that were actually more important than any to-do list I would wind up feeling guilty for doing them instead of tackling another item on the list.
I’m not advocating that you should put playful whims before work. That’s not going to make you productive either.
Goals are great. They are vital to a productive lifestyle. I recommend making a list of tomorrow’s tasks at the end of every work day. Create your goals, but the key is to be realistic. Don’t set yourself up to fail. Make a list that you can reasonably get through in the course of a day, week, month, or whatever increment you choose. Leave room for error. Leave room for life. Take it from a person who has been there: You’ll be happier, healthier and more productive when you are riding the high of goals accomplished instead of the lows of a list left incomplete.
4. Start and end with something you get excited about
This is a big one.
I do not like getting out of bed in the morning. Which is weird, because almost all the people I am closest to love the morning. When the alarm goes of, I’d rather hit snooze six times, then lay in bed playing my Boggle app for 20 minutes before rolling out and starting the day. That–however–is not a productive habit.
To combat this, I always try to start my day out with something I’m looking forward to. This means I usually try to book fun meetings over morning coffee {it gets me up and looking decent first thing in the morning}, or I just book regular appointments that I have to show up to first thing…also, so I have to get out of bed early. If I don’t have anything scheduled, I make the first thing on my realistic to-do list something I actually want to get out of bed to do.
The same principle applies to the end of the day. We all know that draggy 2pm feeling. Sometimes I just want to curl up on the couch with Panda Cat and watch some reruns of Call the Midwife. But alas…things must progress. So I schedule something fun, or plan to finish my day with another task I look forward to. It’s like sandwiching the day’s mundane tasks between things you really enjoy.
5. Tell someone
My final secret to a motivated existence is accountability. Tell someone. Tell them your dreams, your goals, your parameters. Tell them what you hope to accomplish tomorrow, invite them to join in on your healthy reward. Once you tell someone what you are going to get done it becomes a lot harder to be lazy.
Your person should be someone you talk to pretty much every day. So whether that’s a spouse, a bestie, or a sibling…it doesn’t matter. It just needs to be someone you trust and someone who will be consistent. Tell them to check in on you. Make a point of sharing your progress with them. Swap stories of self motivation and productivity. I pinky swear, getting it out verbally will keep you motivated.
Did I miss anything? I’d love to hear your tips and tricks for self motivating! Leave me a comment…I read them all!
xo
Amy
by Amy | Apr 21, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Living
I hope you all had a lovely Easter. We did. A last minute change of plans meant Derek and I found ourselves, leisurely with no plans. We did church, lunch out {got seated right away} with friends, then dinner and games with a family kind enough to take us in for the afternoon. Have you ever had pear pie? I hadn’t until yesterday…and boy is it good.
Easter is a time of life and renewal. And this year up here in PraCan, I think it will mark the start of spring. I really feel like we are finally out of the woods of winter. It’s sunny, the air–even if cool at times–has a warmth behind it. Best of all, things are growing.
Weeds mostly. But that can only mean that actual plants and flowers can’t be far behind.
So we peeled off the plastic that had been dutifully applied to keep the nasty, sub-zero wind from whipping through our second story windows. Things seem so much brighter. I cranked open the front window and Panda cat has been watching birds and children scoot across her view all afternoon. The patio furniture has come out of hiding, and at long last…I get to wear something besides boots! Cuffed jeans and clearance rack tennies to be exact.
Spring in the great Practically Canadian north is a lot like an Easter egg hunt. At first you really have to look hard to find that first sign. Once you do, you notice more and more. I, for one…am glad to put winter behind me and step into a season of life and renewal.
Bring on the sun.
xo
Amy
