Solitude: For or Against?

Solitude. Even the word denotes the tranquility that it is. What is the draw of solitude for some, when others find it frightening, or at least distasteful?


I thrive on solitude, which is good because I am finding myself alone more than I ever have. Often it isn’t by choice, merely circumstance. And then there are times like these, when I tap into the Thoreau in me and I seek out solitude, seek out time for introspection, seek out time to reacquaint myself with the internal woman.

I will be spending the next few days alone at the beach, sitting on the edge of the world. Already I have seen storms, calms before and after the storms, and as right now, the whole world awakening to a beautiful morning. I saw and heard the sea birds calling good morning to the day. The sun is promising to spend some time with me. That is company I would never turn away.

I brought a couple of books with me. I brought watercolor supplies with me. I have an iPod full of my favorite music. There are enough TV channels to keep me distracted if I choose. Probably won’t choose.

I brought my laptop. I made sure it is equipped with word processing software. I intend to spend a good amount of time writing. I used to think it was such a romantic notion to spend a week at the beach writing a book. How is it that I have been so blessed to actually see this notion becoming a reality? It no longer seems out of reach; it seems like an actual possibility, kind of like an unspoken dream that is no longer unspoken.

Are you a solitude kind of person, or do you crave company? I suppose I am a little of both. Ask me three days from now…

Cars and Daughters

Continuing my plan to share my A-Z Album, here are the next two pages.  I have included two scans of each to uncover the pull-out journaling.  I challenged myself in this album to find unique ways to incorporate interactive journaling.  Enjoy!

"C" is for Car!  In the summer of 2004, I surprised my whole family with choosing a silver Mustang Convertible to become my new run-around-town vehicle.  I was so tired of the old mini-van days, and rarely had more than one kid with me as I drove back and forth to school or for other errands.  So I figured, Why not?  I loved that car.  I never grew tired of it.  It finally gave way to a little more practical sedan in January 2009, which I affectionately refer to as my "Grandma" car.  The old Mustang will always hold a special place in my heart.

"D", of course, represents my three lovely daughters.  I had such a wonderful weekend visit from my darlings.  My prayers are with them today as they travel back to Idaho.  Love you, Girls!

Power of a Hand-written Note

I want to share a truth with you.  There is tremendous power in a hand-written Valentine.  Yesterday in the mail Brian and I received this cute little Valentine card.

It wasn't accompanied by any grand gift.  It didn't need to be.  The treasure was inside.

It showed that someone cared enough about us to sit down, find a pen that worked, share some lovely, kind, thoughtful words.  Then this delightful person addressed an envelope, found a current stamp with the proper legal postage (who can keep up with that nowadays?), then walked to the mailbox and posted it, conscientiously assuring it would reach our home by Valentines Day.

It really isn't all that difficult, but how many times do we take the easy way out?  We find some token of our affection, without taking the extra effort to actually share a bit of our hearts.

Thank you, my sweet little Valentine.  You made my day.

Wanted: One Funny Bone

Pondering the value of humor. I have been encouraged to try and find the humor in things more often than I do. I have never had much confidence in my humor, especially as far as my family is concerned. My kids have always neatly and succinctly labeled their parents as “Dad is the funny one. Mom is the smart one.” Well, there you go. Children can tell. They know what is what, and there is no fooling them. I suppose I should be very flattered that they value me as smart. Smart is good. But I know that they have more respect for funny.

How does one tap into one’s sense of humor? Is it possible to develop it? Is it possible to coax a reluctant funny bone out of hiding? I want to be funny. I want to be able to write about things in a humorous way. I want my readers to smile at the narratives of my life. But I want to be real. I want to write with authenticity. I want the reader to be able to hear my own voice. What can I do? What should I do?

I completely believe in the ability to strengthen and hone one’s craft. Writing shouldn’t just be about sitting down and seeing what comes out. It can be stroked, and caressed, and smoothed, and perfected. Can it also be funnified?

I have a friend that thinks I could have increased the funny-factor in my post about my airport anxiety. Was I too subtle? I felt bad when one of my readers apologized for having giggled as she read it. No apologies necessary! Giggles are invited. I feel bad that I don’t come across as inviting giggles, or as being open to a chuckle or two. Am I too strait-laced? Am I too uptight? Am I too much of a prude that people don’t expect to see any humor in my writing?

I can’t change my innate personality, but having lived with Brian all these years proves that I must have some kind of sense of humor. I certainly have been exposed to his wit long enough for some of it to have rubbed off. I know how to laugh at all the funny parts. No one understands his sarcasm like I do. Frequently my children will look to me for clarification because I can always tell when he is joking, even if no one else can.

Thank you for letting me air my concerns. I am not asking for placation. I am not looking to be pacified, appeased, or mollycoddled. I am thinking out loud, and wondering if I ever might be able to draw you in because of my irresistible wit and sparkling sense of humor. I don’t know. Maybe my kids were right...

A is for Anxiety

The comings and goings of travel are perhaps its greatest challenges.  I am talking about the angst found in association with airports.
Oh, to be able to be whisked off to our desired locations throughout the world without having to deal with driving an hour to the airport, dealing with rush hour traffic, the stress of being on time for one's flight, facing the risk of delayed or cancelled flights, and just as stressful, the long drive home from the airport when all one wants to do is crawl into her own bed.

I have learned through painful process that if I want to continue this chosen course of being well-traveled, it does come at a price.

As some of you may know, we took a great trip to Florida for Christmas.  I made the mistake of stating in a blogpost just days before our trip:
"So this detail person will be spending the next five days making lists and checking and re-checking them, so that no child will be left behind, or any reservation number, or any Christmas present, or any shoes, or any...

And then Monday morning I will head to the Portland airport, fly to Salt Lake City where I will meet up with the rest of my family, then we will all board the plane to Orlando. Once I get to that point, I should be able to relax and enjoy myself, reveling in the fact that all the details will be combining to make the Happiest Christmas Ever!"

Sometimes things we say eventually come around again to bite us in the butt.  We never made it to Salt Lake City that day.  We never met up with the rest of our family.  We never boarded the plane all together for Orlando. 
We did spend hours and hours waiting in the Portland airport after our flight was cancelled for mechanical problems.  All the passengers were trying to re-route their trips and it was a nightmare  I have tried to forget.  If I had only to worry about our little Oregon group, it would have been a little better.  But I had kids in Salt Lake that were expecting us to fly to Orlando with them that evening, renting a big van together, and driving to Vero Beach for a restful stay before the craziness of Walt Disney World.

Fortunately I had my new little Acer Aspire with me to help change, cancel, and adjust reservations online.  What I wasn't able to take care of on the computer required a few phone calls.  I am proud to report that I held together pretty well most of the day.  But I am ashamed to admit that I did lose it while on the phone with the rental car company.  They had just quoted me the price for a mini-van, taking into account that this was Orlando over Christmas Break.  $1000 a day!!!  I threw up my notebook and used less than acceptable language...

When we eventually all came together we had a wonderful time.

Then all we needed to do was go home when it was over.  After all the fun was had, after all the food was eaten, after all the gifts had been exchanged.

Our returning flights went as planned.  No delays.  No cancellations.  What a relief, right?

As we were getting closer to Portland, the pilot announced that we would be flying into snow.  What a surprise!  How fun!  We rarely get snow so this was an unexpected treat.  Hmmmm......

What should have taken an hour at best to drive home took nearly SIX hours.  Add these six hours to the time spent flying across the continent and it was enough to punch us in the gut.  I have tried to put this terrible memory in the past.  I was so disappointed in myself that night.  Sometimes a wife's most important role is to be a support to her husband.  I failed that night.

I had taken some Nyquil during our layover in Texas for a cold I was battling.  When my husband needed me most during this gruelling drive home, I was simply unable to stay awake.  I tried.  I really did.  As miserable of an experience that it was for me, the real hero that day was Brian.  I don't know how he did it.  The rest of us were sleeping.  He was not.  He suffered the whole nightmare almost exclusively by himself.  I'm so sorry, my dear.

Your best Valentines Day?

I've been trying to think of mine.  There have been several great ones throughout the years.  We are fortunate that our good friends, Tim and Cindy, celebrate their anniversary on Valentines and often invite us along on their excursions. One year we took a short cruise down to Mexico with them.  One year we stayed at a Bed and Breakfast inn up at Sisters, Oregon. 

I remember one Valentines during the early years of our marriage, shortly after moving to Oregon. My younger brother, Wayne, babysat our little Jackie so we could go out to dinner at McCormick and Schmicks.  That seemed like such an extravagance at the time.  One year,  my parents watched our little Jackie and Robert so we could go away together for a ski weekend.

I remember one year while we had three very young children and lived in Salem, we celebrated all together with a picnic on our family room floor.

I wonder if Brian and Miranda remember the year we went out for Italian food in West Salem and had our car towed.  Ah, such special times...

Many years blend together.  It has gotten to the point that going out for dinner is no longer too much of a thrill, so it becomes more difficult to set the day apart by simply doing that.  And what does one do for the man who doesn't care about 'stuff" and if he wants anything he will go get it himself?

Brian has a little bit of a stubborn streak in him too.  He doesn't like anything that is commonplace or expected or perfunctory as Valentines Day to dictate when or how he shows his love or treats his wife.  He would much rather spoil me all the other 364 days of the year than to do so simply because the world tells him that he should.  I actually find that rather endearing as I too have a little non-conformist streak in me.

I do remember our first Valentines Day together.  Brian and I were both attending Utah State University, and had only been dating for a few short weeks.  Our college ward was sponsoring a Valentines dance.  I spent extra care getting ready because I wanted him to think I was beautiful.  We made an appearance at the activity, danced one dance, then and as I look back now I can see he was being true to form, he asked if I wanted to leave and go see a movie.  What?  I kind of wanted to stay and dance but I could see that he didn't.  We went to the movie, "Tootsie" with Dustin Hoffman, a very fun movie.  For me though, the memorable part was in the sound track.  It began to play "Something's telling me it might be you, yes, its telling me it must be you all of my life".  The amazing song by Stephen Bishop seemed to touch my heart with words speaking just to me.  "I've been saving love songs and lullabyes"...

Well, that was probably sharing too much of myself.  Needless to say our courtship progressed and in June of 1983 we were married in the Idaho Falls Temple.  And the rest, they say, is history.

How are you celebrating Valentines Day?  Brian and I will be going to the coast this year to spend a couple of nights before returning Sunday morning for church.  Sounds nice...

A through Z: All about Me!

A few years ago I started a scrapbook album based on an idea I had heard from a friend.  In twenty-six pages, following the alphabet, the idea is to make a page representing each letter and how it describes something about you.

This project presented several  unique challenges.  Coming up with ideas for each letter that told something about who I am and what I value wasn't always easy.  Employing numerous techniques stretched my creativity.  Finding pictures to represent different facets of my life was a fun quest.  Limiting myself to one page per category required some careful editing.  Hunting for and creating unique embellishments was delightful.

So I have decided to share this album with you for a couple of reasons.  First, it is a compact way of revealing the different facets of my life.  Secondly, it will push me to fill in the few gaps that remain in my album.  Each week I will put together a post with a few of the pages, and we will make our way to the end of the alphabet together.  Enjoy!

I got lucky with the title page, the Letter "A":  All About Ardith.  Too easy...

The letter "B" allowed me to share my love of Broadway shows.  By scanning some of the Playbills I have collected over the years, then printing them in small version enabled me to include several.  I decided to only show the plays I have actually seen in New York City.  Luckily for me, the touring show companies often come to Portland, Oregon, so I don't always have to fly to the East Coast to get my fix.  This page was put together in 2005 so it doesn't include all the great shows I have seen since then.  I am spoiled, I know it...