What It Feels Like to be Free

Call me Andy Dufresne. Consider me Shawshanked.

I don't even know how to write this post or truly explain in a way that would be understandable for most people of what life has been the last six years. Or longer, if I'm being totally honest.

You could start here.

 Or here.

It's not that life has been bad. Not at all. I love my life and all the people in it. I love my home and I have a job where I've been able to grow and find a spot just for me. I have lots of interested and ideas and am generally very excited about life.  I have family and friends who I love, not to mention two furr babies that take up a huge chunk of my heart. And a niece and two nephews who made my heart grow even bigger. Life was and IS good, but it was lacking.

But that terrible monkey on my back was slowly killing me, no matter how hard I tried to fight. And boy did  try. I hate it, but it took the spark out of me for far too long. It was so frustrating to have your body reject you on such a basic level. To try to make things "normal" only to hit a brick wall time and time again. To doubt your sanity on a daily basis. To be dead inside. To watch as other people grew up and flourished while you sit idly by, drowning in your own self doubt and self loathing. The never ending cycle of trying to "fix it" and the terrible pain of not being able to fix it on your own, but not knowing who to turn to because how could you describe what was wrong in the first place with out derision, mocking, or disbelief?  To hide your true self from friends and family and create such a space and distance between yourself and everyone else.

I honestly never thought I would be on the other side. The other side of my worst fear. I can't even explain how this dominated my life! I can't begin to explain the pain and isolation! I can't begin to explain the sadness and anger! I can't begin to explain how little of my true self was left. How hopeless I felt.

But oh there is hope. There is good news! I want to scream it at the top of my lungs every. single. morning.

I am free. I AM FINALLY FREE! 

 I wouldn't trade my experience. How could you ever know true freedom without having been imprisoned? It's such a reminder of God's love and freedom through Christ. I was dead in my sins and trespasses, no way could I make it to heaven on my own. But a miracle happened and I'm saved and free. And now I am saved and free from this demon too.  What a reminder. What a freaking daily reminder that I cannot get over!

I know life isn't going to be all roses and sunshine all the time. But man, am I counting my blessings and amazed at what God can do. Amazed at the doctors he brought into my life who deal with this particular demon every single day. Who have cured so many women who have struggled alone for  years and decades and even more years. Who have given hope and LIFE to so many women who thought they were beyond hope. PRAISE GOD FOR THEM! Praise God he chose to let me be cured and live to tell about it. To help others who struggle and think the are alone. To be support for those going through treatment that they too will see the other side and be stronger and better for it. To be an anchor for those going through deep waters. To have a marriage that has blossomed and survived harsh terrain. To have friendships that have done the same.

This is what it feels like to walk in the sunlight.

THIS is what it feels like to be free.

House Randoms

THIS LINK, makes me happy and proud of my town-

http://www.dwell.com/city-guide/article/modern-across-america-cincinnati-ohio



I try to be organized, but people, it's just too hard when it's an entire house to keep going. I definitely get jealous of the bloggers whose homes seem to always have form and function in every room. Fastidious and EVERYTHING with a story (i.e. great grandmothers silk scarf made into amazing wall art, ect. Sometimes my crap is just from Target and the story is that I bought it and it sat there for too long before I actually used it). And if they don't they immediately irradiate all clutter and don't have another attack of "unfinished business" until another 12 months down the road. I have so many small and random projects going all around my house. I almost never get anything actually finished and have a lot of supplies and randoms laying around, cluttering everything up. Stubbing toes, moving everything from room to room depending on which room I want to look "clean".  BUT SO MANY IDEAS THOUGH! Also, I never know how to use tools and end up breaking things--I get frustrated and feel like nothing gets accomplished. I'm happy to do things myself but somethings you need taught how to do!!! I feel like with house stuff to get any change to happen almost every room gets demolished first. Why is that a thing! OH well. I should just go ahead and accept baby steps as my motto, just like Bob.

Thanks to my mom and Aunts one project did get finished last week, and I'm so excited! Most people would probably not consider "putting together bookshelves" a huge project but for me, yes, it was "huge". Over Christmas I bought three Carson Bookshelves from Target with gift cards from all my kiddos and put the rest on my brand new Target Red Card and got free shipping and %5 off. They don't sell the white ones in store so if I hadn't used the card, the shipping would have been an extra hundo. WHAT? Yeah, that wasn't happening.  So basically I spent the better part of two weeks hemming and hawing and finally pulled the trigger. Then the boxes sat in the garage until last week. Just call me Tortoise.

So my mom and Aunt came down, and gifted me with a bunch of tools AND a new power drill! Which was so awesome! And taught me how to use it. So the three of us (my other Aunt who is not a teacher had to work but paid for a lot of the supplies) got to work and put those dang things together. The drill came in handy because to attach the backs you had to drill holes as there were only four predrilled holes (and like, 48 screws). When Ted got home from work he helped out (we were pretty done by that point) and he also ran out and got us Chipotle. (I have been using the Chipotle ordering app so much Chipotle called me TWICE to comment on how much I was using it and congratulate me HAH! Also the employees recognize my name and face...)

Here are a few pictures:

Ted swooping in in the 11th hour and getting all the glory! Just kidding. Also a Scout photo bomb. Also this is in our basement. 

Trying it out on the Dragonfly wall...and we decided YES. Kilim pouf from Target. 

A second pouf! Because, clearance. 

Don't worry, we have so many more books than that. I need to weed through what we have upstairs. So then I can buy more books. 

You're welcome! (does anyone else watch Awkward?)

Mr. Silver Fox was a Homegoods find. He sat around in a bag in my trunk for a month.  Then he sat by a peacock situation in the guest room. Just keeping it real. He's glad to have a home now. 

Can you tell I'm obsessed with this pouf? (I keep thinking Arrested Development every time I say pouf). They are really sturdy and don't give too much when sat on and I hope it stays that way for many years. PS Look at all my purty anthologies! 

Here are a few more house situations going on:

Found this dresser at Goodwill, and it was $49. It's in really good condition but as it's summer break and I'm not getting paid it seemed like a little much. I had already sunk my #colddeadfingers into but was feeling conflicted as I didn't want to spend tithe/grocery money on something we didn't need. (need is such an annoying word to someone who has ALL THESE IDEAS!)  BUT the guy working in the furniture section told me if I waited until after 5 pm it would be 50% OFF!!!! BECAUSE MOONLIGHT MADNESS! (Seriously check your Goodwill calendar online and see when that sale is because it includes furniture!) It was a risk as to whether or not it would still be there (people were swarming around it and Christen even sat on it for me while I tracked down employees). And glory hallelujah it was still there at 5. Ted actually drove there immediately after work and got it in the van before we even made it back to meet him. He was reallllly happy it wasn't 50 bucks, haha. My plan is for this to be the tv unit int he basement. I want to spray paint the legs and hardware and polish up the wood. I heart it! (Right now it's sitting in the garage! hah!)

Got this gigantic handmade dollhouse from a coworker who was getting rid of it. I want to revamp it. It will probably sit in the middle of the floor for a year while I pin random dollhouse stuff. 

Got a pair of these side tables at the Habitat Restore, goal is to replace Ikea Lack's in our master bedroom. I don't know what I want to do with them yet as there is already a lot of wood from the dresser anchoring the room. Suggestions?

So this winter we bought a new kitchen table from the West Elm outlet at an amazing deal. It's the Parker Mid-Century table-

The thing is we need chairs to go with. We have chairs from our former dining table (which is now acting as an illegitimate island in the kitchen...)

I've been planning on white modern-ish chairs from Ikea as Eames chairs aren't that sturdy in my opinion and expensive.  I did find on an online auction these bad boys:

BUT the problem is, if I was getting paid right now I would be able to bid a little higher (to get all six chairs at once would be amazing instead of buying them one at a time here and there) but I don't want to spend us into the ground (nor can I, nor should I) for chairs we don't really need. I'm already being beat out of the bid and there is six days left so who knows how high this could go. So I'll probably stick with the original plan of Ikea chairs. It will kill me a little bit inside to know I could have had actual Danish Mid Century chairs for around the same price but you know, that's life. I hate what online bidding does to me I GET SO CRAZY. I become an obsessive monster.  When it's all said and done I'll probably like the white with the table better anyways. 

Anyways, that's whats going on in my house lately. Also I'm cleaning out closets and have a million things to donate for the millionth time this summer. And I want to paint my bedroom. And I want to hang pictures in the stairwell.  Also I'm putting renegade photos into albums. And I have a million books to read. Don't make me go back  to school! 

The Girl and the Iron Door

The Girl and Iron Door

Like many stories, this one begins like this: there once was a girl.  She was smart and happy. She lived a quiet  simple life in her small village where she was very comfortable. She had books to read, music to make, and friends to laugh with. Although she was very happy she often dreamed what life outside the walls of her village would be like.  There was a stone wall surrounding her village but with age came the privilege to come and go and the girl was excited to see life from a different perspective. When the time came, her friends and family watched as she packed up her things to begin her journey. The morning she was to leave dawned clear and bright, full of hope and promise. The girl was excited but also a little nervous to be traveling into the unknown. It gave her courage that all was well as so many people came and went from the village each day. She hugged her loved ones and promised she would soon send them news of the new people and places she was going to visit. With a bittersweet feeling she walked out the door, head held high and began to walk. 

She bounced through town with a spring in her step, waving and smiling to friends she came in contact with. Slowly but surely familiar landmarks became fewer and farther between but she continued down the path towards the wall. The wall which always seemed small in the distance was becoming larger, looming in the distance. She began to wonder where exactly there was an opening. She hadn’t come this close to the wall in a long time and couldn’t remember.  Her mind felt hazy and she felt her heart start to beat more quickly. The path was reassuring, it must be taking her to the exit. Why would this path be here if there wasn’t a way out? She tried to reason her racing heart and kept foraging ahead.

Finally, she was close enough to the wall to see. She sat on the ground  momentarily to catch her breath and set down her pack.  There was a sturdy-looking iron door, that must be how people are coming and going. No one had ever mentioned a door to her before. Everyone always seemed like coming and going was the easiest thing in the world. She wondered if it needed a key or if it just pushed open. “Don’t be silly!” she scolded herself. “If it needed a key you would have one! Someone would have told you! Just go and open it!”  Before she could get up she saw another girl walking towards the door. “I’ll watch and see how she does it, then I will do what she does” she thought. There was a nearby tree she leaned up against as she watched.  The other girl walked without a care in the world. In fact, she did not even slow her stride when approaching the door. She watched in awe as the other girl sailed right through the door without even flinching or making any other moves. How had she done that?! It looked quite easy but almost too good to be true. She stood up and straightened up her shoulders. If that girl could do it then obviously so could she. As she approached the door images of a heavy red door smashing her fingers played out in her head. She imagined it slamming and never allowing her back inside the village. Anxiety started to choke up her movements, her stomach felt like someone was wringing it in their hands. There was a knot in the small of her back and she felt light headed. Why was this door having such a strange effect on her? What was wrong with her? She forced herself to put her hand on the door knob. She was jolted by an electric feeling that shot up through her hand when she tried to turn it. She put both hands on and tried to push it open but it would not budge. It singed her hands and she turned and ran back to the tree. 

She tried to regroup. What had just happened?! That other girl had simply floated right through while the door couldn’t have been more troubling for her. She looked down at her hands expecting to see them bubbling up with burns. Her skinned looked normal as if nothing had happened! What was wrong with her? Was she cursed? She was so embarrassed that she couldn’t figure out the secret of the door and had given up so easily. She decided to sleep on it and try again in the morning. She curled up under the tree and fell into a sleep filled with nightmares. 

She awoke to the sound of birds chirping and to footsteps. The girl from the day before who had left the village was walking down the path carrying an armful of flowers she had picked from outside. She was humming and looking so carefree, it was maddening!

“Excuse me!” she called out. 

“Yes? Can I help you?” the other girl peered at her.

“Please, tell me your secret!” she begged, beginning to feel desperate. 

“What secret?” 

“How do you leave the village? How did you get out?!”

The other girl looked at her with a very confused expression. 

“I just walked through” she said with a strange look on her face and continued on her way. 

She slumped against the tree. She buried her head in her hands. Was it all a cruel joke, some kind of hazing? Was she not meant to leave? Her stomach churned and her face burned in shame. Soon her family would be expecting news of all the exciting adventures she was having. What would they think when they found out she couldn’t even begin? She spent the day crouched under the tree watching people come and go. At night she crept back to the door, not wanting anyone to see her try and miserably fail again. The same thing happened only this time the door seemed larger, more scary, and somehow more tightly locked. Every time she approached it she would break out in a sweat, her heart would pound, and her stomach would curl into a tiny knot. This was not normal. No matter how brave she tried to be she could not master the door. Some days even the thought of it made her sick. So she tried to put it out of her mind. 

Time passed and the girl discovered many ways to entertain herself in her new abode under the tree. It was pretty interesting to watch all the commotion of people coming and going. She made a cozy tent and filled it with books and flowers. She tried to be happy and accept her new lot in life. Anyone who tried to befriend her she held at arms length. She was friendly but nothing beyond surface talk. She didn’t know how to tell people about the door. She knew they wouldn’t understand, just like the incredulous girl she had asked for help. She had nightmares about the way that girl looked at her, like she was  crazy and out of her head. She couldn’t bear her family looking at her that way or her friends from the village. So she kept to herself. 

One day, the girl was sitting up in the branches of her tree reading a book and day dreaming. She felt the tree shake and noticed a boy was climbing up. She scowled at him when he got to her branch but that didn’t seem to bother him. Couldn’t he tell she preferred solitude??? She didn’t want to tell anyone about the Red Door.   He sat down despite her unwelcoming attitude and said “I hear you have a lot of good books, do you think we could make some trades? I’m going on an adventure and need something new”. He held out a bag of well worn books and they began to talk. Then they started to laugh. They traded books and read aloud and sang songs. The boy didn’t leave. The girl didn’t mind. It was very nice to have someone around that made her laugh. 

Time and seasons passed. The rains came, the snow came, the flowers came, and the door and the girl remained the same. Watching as friends came and left with tales of the cities they saw, the new ideas they had learned, made the girl melancholy. Everyone else was changing and growing and they were stalled with no hope of moving forward.  Somedays the boy and girl would rail at the door and try to approach it.  Then long periods would come where the door wasn’t addressed.  Every passing minute the door wasn’t resolved chipped away at the girls soul. It left her empty, a shell of her former self. The girl that was excited that day long ago  was long gone. What was to be done? She had never heard of anyone else having this problem so there must be something wrong with her.  To her core she felt humiliation and the burden of letting down friends and family that after all this time she couldn’t do a simple task that all people from the village could do, and do it with ease. And not only could she not do it but was terrified of it. One particularly bad night the boy woke to her pounding  and clawing at the door screaming into the night. “Why won’t you just go without me?!” She raged when he approached her. “Just leave me here! This is where I belong. You don’t belong here!”She collapsed on the ground and felt the last bit of light escape from her. He sat down beside her and said he wanted them to go together. He didn’t know how to make that happen. They cried for the millionth time over the iron door. 

After many, many days of sameness something happened that set things in motion for change. The day was just like any other. The girl was selling and trading books to people coming and going from the village. She got a new book from a traveller and was interested immediately. It was about a girl who had trouble with doors. Her heart stopped. Dare she get her hopes up? It must be some kind of mistake. She sat down under the tree and poured over every single word.  Tears rolled down her cheeks. Every line was as if it was from her own head. Doors that wouldn’t open. Sadness. Pain. Isolation. Stagnation. But then….hope? Hope was a foreign concept to her.  The book detailed a girl who also fought the demons of a door. She couldn’t conquer the door on her own but got help and defeated it. Defeated it?!? It was possible? Who helped her? The book called them the “Door Keepers”. Was it real? Could these Door Keepers really help? 

With fear and excitement she showed the book to the boy. It was as if something inside her had shifted.  He seemed interested but skeptical, was it just a work of fiction? Was it real? It seemed like they needed to make a decision. Choose the safety of the tree and forget life outside the village or decide once and for all to defeat the door. The safety of the tree had turned into a strangle hold; safe but smothering. Enough was enough, they decided to send for the Door Keepers.  The girl decided the sameness was more crippling than the fear. So the fear would have to be dealt with to reach change. 

The Door Keepers sent word they would come. The girl was the most anxious she had ever been. What if she failed? What if opening the door hurt beyond what she could bear?   Finally,  on the day they arrived the girls fears were put at ease.  With kind confidence  they reassured her others had been suffering like her and that she too could move past this. They could teach her to open it if she would follow their guidance. Then she would be free. 

With determination they began to work, the Keepers teaching her the ways of mastering the door.  Talking her through her fears and motivating her to keep going. With each small victory the girl began to feel the chains on her heart loosen.  In a few days time the door didn’t look so intimidating. Finally she was ready to go through to the other side. The Keepers told her to just walk through. They said to trust and just do it. She took a deep breath and walked without wavering. As she approached the threshold something miraculous happened: the heavy iron door became an open tunnel! She blinked. It was still a tunnel! There was no door in sight!She could see mountains, a river, and a field of wild flowers on the other side, and a fork in the road and signs pointing in many different directions. Where did the door go?! She turned excitedly to the Keepers. Maybe it was magic. 

They smiled. It had always been a tunnel but she had always seen a door. It didn’t make the door any less real, but the fact of the matter was NOW it was an easily passable tunnel and she could see it that way. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt without the Door Keepers she would never have been able to make her mind open and teach her eyes to see the truth. “How can I thank you?!” she cried, hugging them. They laughed and told her to go have adventures and let any other girls who might be held up by a door know there was hope. They gave her a necklace with a key on it as a departing gift and a reminder that she had the key to the “door”.   The Door Keepers packed up their tools and headed off to help another girl who was waiting to be released from the prison her door had created. 

Fresh waves of joy she never thought she would feel again bubbled up inside her. She ran to the tree where the boy was waiting and grabbed his hand. “We’re free to finally go!”she proclaimed . They left the village and never looked back. 

THE END 

Stories with Pictures, Chicago

Here are a few pics I snapped while we were roaming Chicago. 

Telling Stories:Frank Lloyd Wright Home and Studio Tour Edition.

Last week I went to the zoo with my niece and nephews and other various family members. Afterwards, hot, tired, and sweaty, (but very content) my niece and I were sitting in a Wendy's sipping on some strawberry lemonade. She was sitting in my lap and we were the only ones at the table. She looked up at me with a smile and said "Tell me the story of going to the zoo today!"

I loved this for many reasons, I love that she likes to make sense out of life by putting it into a story. I totally identify with that. I love that she already gets that stories have a beginning, middle, and end. I love that she had enjoyed her day so thoroughly she thought it was story worthy (and it was!) I really should write it down for her and include all the pictures of the animals I took! It was a great reminder that I need that too, to make sense of my life I like to document things, putting them in order in my mind, with words or photos or both. It really gives things more meaning rather than just living and forgetting.   

The story I have to tell here today is one with pictures and a few words. It's from our trip to Wisconsin and Chicago LAST summer (and it honestly feels like it was yesterday so I don't even feel ridiculous for waiting so long to post, she said, almost believing herself). I might do it in several posts so as not to picture overload, but I definitely want to remember it as it was awesome and very much our speed. 

First I'm going to share the Frank Lloyd Wright Home and Studio tour as well as Oak Park Frank Lloyd Wright walking tour. Sound like a PBS nightmare to you? Sorry internet, that's how we roll/walk.  On a walking tour complete with tour guide head phones and various other couples all over the age of FIFTY, boo yah. 

First we arrived at the FLW Home and Studio (which is now a museum and home base to the neighborhood walking tour to see other FLW houses and such). This is the side of the house. His homes can be difficult to get into one picture due to their shape/size. He loved to keep people guessing as to where the front door was, basically they had to go on a walk-a-bout to find it. I bet he loved watching people look like idiots. I'm sure he would have totally came up with candid camera had he not been busy Howard Roarking life. (all photos taken by me, on my Canon Rebel t2i) 

Here it is from the side...the photos still don't due it justice.

So next up are just a few houses from the tour: (keep in mind, this was early in his work, a precursor to his more famous prairie style homes)

MMMM, wrought iron! 

And now for some interiors:

 Look at this studio, I would love to work in here! 

 Look at that library! I think there may have been an organ at the top. He loved to create spaces for family and friends to gather and hang out. I would have been all over those built-ins. 

Now for a few cell phone pictures to complete the story of the day:

 We really do love you Oak Park, and we can't wait to go back. After a sweaty day of touring and walking, we found Boss Burrito's. It was seriously the best burrito I EVER. HAD. And paired with grape Fanta? Ugh. I think about it almost everyday, haha.