Herein I relate the catastrophe of attempting to do my own nails... by myself...

I tried, I really tried.  I put every effort into being "put together".  My normal routine before leaving the house is this....
1) 2 minutes brush teeth
2) 1 minute wash face
3) 20 seconds slather on some tinted moisturizer
4) 10 seconds mascara

optional:
Hair.  Well, I put  some coconut oil in when its wet and then  I let it air dry.... who wants to actually blow dry their hair anyway? Its boring.

It probably takes me longer to locate my keys and my shoes than it takes to prep myself.

For last week's Holiday formal "event" or "ball", I decided to be more intentional.  The tousled look was good last year, but this year I had a vision in my mind.  I wanted to emulate Lauren Bacall's timeless look.  She looks classic, elegant, finished and beautiful.  I love her.

I did my research on how to attain such soft waves, and on how to do the 1945 makeup.  Those women spent hours fixing their hair like that!  And that eye makeup took talent and time as well!

I made a huge mistake, though.  I decided to further my independence in the mystical field of cosmetology and do my nails too!  I borrowed my friend's nail lights and had a couple of hours before the dinner to achieve the look.  Now, I should add that I am self conscious of my nails and rarely have them painted for the same reason.  And they are not long at all.  Rather stubby.  Its because I make art.  There is no way I won't chip polish in the same day, and normally they have some sort of stain or discoloration from something I have been doing.  Sometimes they look dirty, when its really just ink under my nails.

I began painting my nails.
I put on two thick coats and stuck them under the nail light.  I waited a few minutes and tried to take them out.  I messed up!  I moved too fast and they were still gloopy.
Take two.  I put on a coat of polish.  Decide to curl my hair,  Didn't seal the bottle.  The polish is knocked over, hits the tile floor, shatters and glass and polish go EVERYWHERE.
Including my foot, which was stained with pink.
And I tried to clean it off the floor to prevent staining and ended up getting it all into my fingers and it was sticky and a huge mess.  I managed to find some remover , which was good since I used the last of my other bottle on my first mishap and painstakingly rubbed off both the stickiness and most of the stains out of my skin.
Take three.  I found another bottle of nail polish and put on a thin coat and somehow managed to finish my hair with semi-wet nails.  I ran out of time, really.
Why did I think I could manage in this world of manicure and glamour?  I am just a poor farm girl from upstate New York.  I am no match for the southern belles around here!

Of course when you look at my picture below, you may realize how silly I was.  My dress is too long to worry about nail polish on toes, or stained skin as well.  And I was going to wear gloves most of the night anyway, so my fingers weren't going to be criticized either. (Except  you can't wear gloves while you eat...)

My mother told me something importatnt when I was a girl.   She said that people won't notice if you wear the same dress two sundays in a row to church.  People usually don't notice trivial things which we sometimes worry about.  We are consumed about little details that fill up our time and our minds, and really don't matter in the big picture.

And as a further note on why it doesn't matter, just look at my husbands lovely face and how much he loves these social events.   And photos.  He loves photo shoots.  

Merry Christmas!

Funeral Duty Day

There are two dreaded "duties" among Chaplains here at Fort Hood.   One of them, the Duty Phone is the 24 hour crisis hotline phone, which each battalion chaplain has to man once or twice a month.  The other is Funeral Duty, which obliges the chaplain with the duty, to perform any funerals for Veterans within approximately a 200 mile radius for the day.  THE Chaplain (a.k.a.  Ch. Cochell, my husband) had funeral duty this past Friday.  He knew about the funeral beforehand and had a nice little sermon planned for the cemetery ceremony.  We planned to leave the house around 10 am to get to the cemetery the required 30 minutes early.  

9:30 the phone rings.  "Chaplain, the family is getting a little worried that you are not here."  What?  Well, apparently, there were two services for this particular veteran.  One at the funeral home and one at the cemetery right after.  We rushed over to the funeral home (it was a frantic, stressful drive to get there in time)  and walked in as the music began, and The Chaplain was handed a program which included a small sermon by him.
See, the five minute sermon often takes longer to prepare than the 30 minute sermon.  Each word is more meaningful, since you only get to say a few.  I knew he had a sermon prepared for the cemetery, and I wondered with a smirk if he was going to use that one first and brew up something on the ride over to the cemetery, or whether he had something in reserve to use for such an occasion.  It somewhat amused me to see what would happen.  I am not a cruel person, because I knew he would be able to handle the situation and everything would be fine.  He, on the other hand, being a pessimist was worried that it would be the greatest catastrophe ever and there would be reports of his deficiencies all the way up to the Chief of Chaplains.
As the service progressed, it came time for his "homily".  He began to speak and it was not the prepared sermon.  It was a beautiful heart felt message of truth and hope.  It was a message honoring the 28 year veteran of the military.  The largely African-American audience hung on every word and every sentence was followed by loud "Amens".  I couldn't help but shed a tear.  It was so beautiful.  And afterwards I had to ask him how it all happened and he said it was all the "Holy Spirit".  Which is against his training, which trained him to be prepared and never rely on chance or whim.  But this was out of his control.
So, yes, The Chaplain astounded me today with his heart and speaking ability, and his ability to "listen to the Spirit".  I guess miracles still happen today.



Later that day he wrote this on my Facebook wall...
(if you know my husband, this is totally tongue and cheek)

"Erasmus, in his most excellent book The Praise of Folly, writes in regards to Stultitia Loquitur: And thus what great orators elswhere can hardly bring about in a long, carefully planned speech, I have done in a moment, with nothing but my looks. If I can take it out of context, my thoughts exactly.

He goes on to say about orators,'They as you know so well, when they bring out a speech they have been working on for thirty whole years, and sometimes not their own at all, will swear it was written in three days, for pastime, or even that they merely dictated it. For my part, it has always been most satisfactory to speak "whatever pops into my head." ' This he defines as moria - or folly. Or as Gimli would say about Moria, 'They call it a mine, a mine!' And I would say to Gimli, this looks more like a tomb than a mine."   -Chaplain James Cochell,  U.S.Army

I HATE FUN. (And more on being verbally pedestrian)

I hate FUN!

Let me explain a little further.

I love beautiful words.  Vocabulary that is poetic. Words such as languish, exquisite, and quibble.  Words which evoke a powerful image in your head at the sound.  Words that roll off your tongue with nothing short of pleasure.

 On the other hand, I detest bland words.  Pedestrian words..... see below the definition of pedestrian, particularly the first.

Definition of PEDESTRIAN

1

: commonplace, unimaginative

2

a : going or performed on foot

b : of, relating to, or designed for walking <a pedestrianmall>

 See pedestrian defined for English-language learners »

See pedestrian defined for kids »

I ABHOR pedestrian words.  

There are many pedestrian words.  Those are the words that your English teacher would tell you to "find a synonym".   Good.  Nice.  FUN.

My least favorite word is FUN.  Imagine you spend the afternoon cooking a fabulous gourmet five course meal and at the end of it, the feedback you get is,  "That was fun".

You might as well say "That was vaguely interesting, but nothing to write home about.  Actually, next time I think I will pick up a fun corndog on the way home and eat that instead.  With some fun cotton candy."

Or lets say you go on a date and you hear that your date said,  "she/he was fun, it was a fun time."  I don't know about you, but I wouldn't expect a call for a second date.  Wouldn't you rather hear, "She/he was delightful, I had an intriguing and fantastic time."

In my house, I have decided that fun is the f word.  I don't want it uttered within my walls.

Of course, there are other verbal abominations, but fun summarizes all of them.  

I started thinking about this and I started to philosophize as to why this bothers me so much.

Perhaps, instead of disliking the words themselves, I need to make changes in myself.  Instead of trying to force others to not use certain words around me, I should be attempting to create an environment in which whatever our family is doing, eating, participating in, is NOT pedestrian.  

I think my admiration of powerful words goes beyond vocabulary.  It is my philosophy.   I want life to be fully delicious.  Incredible.  Breath-taking. Meaningful.  I think this incredible life can happen in anyone's normal life.  It is not whether you live in a castle or a double wide.  It is about attitude and desire.  To seize the day, to appreciate the little things in life, to love deeply, to dance in the moonlight, and most importantly be kind to all. 

General Ramblings of an Army Wife

I am a little old to be new to the military lifestyle.  Most Army wives my age have spent the past 15-20 years acclimating to the culture.  Sometimes, I feel like I need a little help while navigating through our new life.  Up until this point I have two unwritten rules, which I explain later.

I was garage sale-ing ( is that a real word, even?) on Saturday and picked up a copy of this book to help me out.  I was so happy to have it all laid out in book form!

I got quite a deal, apparently.  I paid fifty cents, and Amazon lists it for $25.  

Anyone who truly knows me may ask...why do I want to follow the rules, not normally being a rule follower by nature? Mind you, I refuse to try to fit in for political gain.  I am not one who could ever  "kiss up" to further my husband's career.  That is my #1 unwritten rule.   I don't want to pretend to be someone I am not. However, engrained in my mind is something I read about how a military spouse is a  reflection of their soldier, and one should act accordingly. 

My #2 unwritten rule up until this point, since I am not really sure of all the proper etiquette, is to always wear a simple dress at any function, even if stopping by the office.  "You can never go wrong in a dress (I can hear my mother's words echo in my head)."

Well, let me just tell you that this book did me wrong last night!  Not tragically wrong.  No, I didn't embarrass the good name of my husband.  But I was a tad underdressed!  I was invited to a Farewell "Coffee" for the Brigade Commander's wife.  My husband is a battalion chaplain, so the Brigade Commander is a level above his commander, if that makes sense.  I am still learning how all the ranking works myself!  Above the Brigade Commander, is the Division Commander.  He is a General.  And it was the General's wife who was hosting.  The spouse who was moving on is one of the most gracious, kind and benevolent people I have ever met.  I have not been very good at attending spouse events, I usually make up excuses as to why I can't go.  Then I feel guilty afterwards.  I dread these social functions, which of course does not make me a very good Army wife.    But this event was different.

I wanted to attend this event because I really like the woman.  And after the last memorial service that James preached at, she genuinely raved about his homily.   His sermonette was a bit of a risk, and it was either going to be a total failure or a masterpiece.  He spoke about the video game, Call of Duty and tied the mission of the game in beautifully with how soldiers need to work together and be each other's lifeline. The soldier who died had been a huge gamer. Not everyone would appreciate James' mastery and his usage of a video game at such a somber event, but she commented about how his type of thinking is exactly what the soldiers needed.  Of course she was endeared to my heart after that.

The invitiation said the dress was Casual.  (Not Texas Casual, just Casual).  So, I looked up in the above book what Casual entails in the military lifestyle.   Jeans, sandals, pants, not sloppy, but CASUAL.  I got this, I thought.  I wore jeans, a nice tank, a pearl bracelet, I actually put on makeup and tamed my wild hair, too.  I looked presentable and fresh.  Minus the scarf and jacket (way too hot for that), my look was somewhat like the outfit below.

I arrive at the General's house and guess what?  There were spouses wearing cocktail dresses!  Not all, but a handful, and the majority of other women wore casual dresses.  There were a few women who wore pants and jeans, so I wasn't a total sore thumb.  I actually found it amusing.  Who wears a cocktail dress to a casual event anyway?  Perhaps since it was at a high ranking officer's house, any type of dress should be stepped up a notch.  I don't know, I am a little clueless, like I said before.

Oh, but the food!  It was amazing!  I wish I could have taken photos and shared them on pinterest.  The plates were beautiful and laid out in several rooms in a perfectly composed fashion.  

Here are some similar foods I found online...  cantalope in shot glasses

I had to have a tiny lamp chop!  I love lamb and rarely get a taste.

Marinated tomato and mozzerella kabobs...

And in every little nook were shot glasses filled with marinated shrimp and olives and cheese, tiny cups of middle eastern rice dishes and Mediterranean noodles.  Huge decadent brownies, as well.  

And some of these tiny grape leaf appetizers too.  

 The hostess was extremely friendly and approachable as well.   And seriously, no one was judging me based on what I wore.  I was able to spend some time speaking to several ladies I know pretty well.   And to top it off, I had a couple of sips of an amazing Jalapeno white wine!  Spicy and dry, and from Virginia, not a local winery.  

Yet another misadventure in the life of this Army wife.  My motto continues to be, "Live and learn and enjoy every day of this beautiful life!"

Gardening meditations

I love the idea of loving gardening.

I grew up with a woman (my mother of course) who was a gardening goddess.  She would always said that when she died, she hoped she could be a gardener in heaven.  Gardening was her passion.  We lived on five acres of rich black dirt soil in upstate New York.  She grew organic vegetables, flowers which were plentiful and gorgeous, strawberries on a little hill and she even had a small fruit tree orchard.
One would think that growing up in such an environment would naturally foster skills and a love for gardening.   I should love it.  I want to love it.  I even cognitively have the knowledge to make it work.

But I don't.

I love being outside, hiking, walking, outdoor animals, etc., etc., etc..... but gardening is something I force myself to do.

It is sad, I know.

I remember as a child, as my mother and sister toiled in the dirt, I would volunteer to clean and make lunch for them.  Even then, I got more satisfaction out of the kitchen toil then the garden.

Then, when my first child was born, a travesty in my own garden happened.  I was extremely focused on keeping things natural and organic for my son.  I made my own baby food and used organic fruits and vegetables.  I decided to plant some tomatos.  They were beautiful and the fruit were getting almost ready to pick.  I was so excited.
Until, my husband caught my elderly next door neighbor, who was of Eastern European descent, dousing pesticide on them.  He was trying to be helpful.  Just like when he would go into our front yard and spray all of my dandelions with weed killer.  I like dandelions.  I don't like walking barefoot in my yard with dangerous chemicals.  Needless to say, I was devastated. My tomatoes were ruined. And I really think that situation zapped any remaining love or desire to garden out of me.
In previous years, I have been able to put a blame on busy work schedules,  small babies, and other situations as to why I didn't have a luscious garden.  I always planted a few pansies, but that was the extent.  And they didn't look happy.

This year, however, we happened to move into an army house in which a master gardener had lived previously.  Although there are few plants left, she left this beautiful dirt.  She composted and organically fed the dirt religously the past few years.  So, I grit my teeth, and went to Lowe's and Home Depot and bought some plants and seeds.  I had no patience, and angrily threw the seeds in haphazardly.  And I didn't mark them.  And I hardly planted in straight lines.  I think I really didn't believe anything actually would grow from the seeds.  

Much to my surprise, there are these little plants coming up!  A couple of my mature plants died due to a late frost in April (it is Texas, who would have thought)

Although, I still do not relish my time in the garden, I am getting a small satisfaction at seeing these little plants shoot up.  Maybe there is hope for me.

 Look!  Here is my baby lettuce.

 And here are my sunflowers.

And my herb garden is started to flourish too!  

Wherein I confess some of my shortcomings...

I have a project I need to work on.
I am not working outside of the home.  I do not have a job.  I am not pushing my jewelry business.  My kids are in school all day.
This is the PERFECT time in my life to work on a portfolio for  acceptance into a graduate program in art or art education!  It has been my dream for a long time to go back to school.

    Each day, however, it is so easy to find other things to do!  I want to go back to school more than anything!  And yet, every day.... other "things"  seem to draw me away.  One of those "things", I am a little embarrassed to confess.   But they say the first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one.      SO here it goes.   I am addicted to Skyrim.  And if I actually turn on the xbox, I can lose hours with out even realizing it!
    Ironically, I knew that would happen.  I know my personality.  And for the past couple of years, I have intentionally stayed away from the beautiful RPG game.  I KNEW that if I started, I would become engrossed.
But, my son made a comment about how I wouldn't be able to play!  So, I needed to show him I could.    The next day, when everyone came home, I had spent a good four hours playing and the house was smelly and dirty.
      No laundry done, no supper ready.

     But, I had slain a dragon.

I realize that those of you who are not gamers may not understand.

The whole concept of an adult woman having an issue with wasting hours a day on a video game may seem ludicrous.   But this world of Tamriel is amazing!  It is like I am living in a world such as Middle Earth or Westeros (Game of Thrones).  It is such an involved game, I believe I could play for the next year and still not discover every camp and tower.  Or learn how to create every piece of weaponry and armour.  And you can actually read books of lore and history in this game.  That is cool.

Enough about this game which has taken over my life.  It has changed my parenting.  I have learned to not be so harsh on the boys when they are in the middle of a board and I think they need to do something else.  Maybe I will let them finish.  

Yes, this is a little bit of a let down of a blog entry.  I am not creating anything useful like soaps, or pretty, like my earrings, or unique like my paintings... but it is how I have been living the past couple of weeks.  Today, I exercised every bit of self control and cleaned the kitchen, and sat down and sketched.  And I realized I should write. It helps my creativity if I write and draw daily.  I just forget that sometimes.  

So I exercised self control today.   I do a little bit of work.... then, I can venture into Skyrim again!  

I started a blog which will serve as an online art journal/ sketch book for my portfolio.  If interested, I could use opinions and feedback and yes... criticism!  I can handle it!  

I should get my newest sketches and layout up today.

http://drawinglineseverywhere.blogspot.com/

I may be a Hippie...

I may be a hippie.  I am not sure.  I never thought I fit the actual description, but lately... some of their "practices" just make sense.  Sure, I have been called bohemian, hippie and flower child by some, but I never believed I was one myself.

I mean, THIS, is not me!  The general concept of a hippie is someone who resists authority, smokes weed, doesn't wash and loves the environment and lives in a commune.  Hmmmm.... not me.  Well, I do like to bend the rules... a little.

And just because I used cloth diapers for my babies, doesn't mean ANYTHING!  But acceptance can be a beautiful thing.  And, well, I haven't shampooed my hair in two weeks!

Recently, I have been investigating some of the standard practices we all, in modern America, take part in.  Like using processed chemicals in EVERYTHING!  AND eating genetically mutated, I mean genetically modified foods.  Then I started researching some natural ways of doing the same things.  I havent figured out how to fight the system concerning GMO foods, outside of moving to Europe where they are banned.  However concerning the chemicals which we saturate our skin in, I found easy ways to fix that.  I shouldn't say fix, I should say heal.  

The more I learn about natural foods and oils, the more I am reawakened to the concept that nature was created in such a way that the cycle of growth leans towards restoration and healing. Of course, eventually the cycle includes death, but within that cycle of birth and death, healing is built into life.  Restoration of our bodies, just like in a spiritual sense, our souls, is part of life.  

Take coconut oil for example, research shows that not only does it moisturize, it has anti-fungal, anti-bacterial properties.  Coconut oil is not the only one which is like that.  Olive oil is wonderful too. And garlic.   If you have an earache, a couple of drops of warm olive oil and garlic essence rubbed into your ear can help get rid of infection.  Apple Cider Vinegar is another one.  I could go on and on, but there are so many bloggers blogging about these ingredients right now, that I would only be redundant.  

My point in all of this rambling is that God created the Earth to not only heal itself, but to heal our bodies.  Inside and out.  It is just that humans seem intent on destroying all of the goodness in the earth and as a result, we lose all of these benefits.  

So, we go to the store and buy a shampoo that is made in a lab.  And as a result, the chemicals (especially sodium laurel sulfate) can creep into our pores and hair follicles and get into our bloodstream.  Not only that, our own natural oils are stripped and our hair and scalps lose the beauty which it naturally has.  Itchy scalps, dermatitis, eczema, psoriasis are all aggravated by these products.  Even if the labels say they help these issues.   I am not so sure that years of usage can cause these problems.  

I have found many recipes and combinations which I have been beginning to try. I have been shampoo free for two weeks now.  I only use baking soda and apple cider vinegar.  The baking soda cleanses and the apple cider vinegar detangles and nourishes.  My hair is nicer than it ever has been.  It is less greasy, has more volume, is softer, and has natural waves!  My hair never was wavy.   I have the other people in my family using a shampoo that I made with castille soap, castor oil and tea tree oil, but I was the guinea pig for the baking soda. 

I have substituted other solutions for creams and washes, as well.  For my acne prone skin (ridiculous given my age), I have finally veered away from salicyc acid and have been washing my face with olive oil and castor oil.  My skin is doing better.  So far, anyway.  I am starting to think its a conspiracy.  What better way for acne medicine companies to perpetuate business?   Sell a face wash which strips your face of natural oils, causing an imbalance which actually causes a cycle of acne.  I am sure that food allergies to wheat or milk may be a personal cause of my skin problems, including eczema, but the benzoyl peroxide and salycic acids were not curing anything.  And now I have two teenaged boys who were using these said chemicals.  Anyway, my skin FEELS healthier now.  I never would have believed putting oil on my face would help with my oily skin.  Here is a picture of my new hair, anyhow.  It looks clean and soft.  I never liked my hair before.  Now I really love it.

This has all opened my eyes to a whole world of healing.  Theologically, I know that the world is in decay.  And yet, I believe that pieces of Eden, pieces of Paradise are still at work.  And I think that plants hold these healing properties.   There are wonderful benefits and miracles at work every day within nature.  And it has inspired me in my portfolio project.  This is the concept that I want to put into my artwork.  This idea of the natural order of things which include growth and healing contrasted to human meddling in laboratories and the consequences.  How else is the zombie apocalypse going to come about?  It will be brought about by a lab experiment, humans meddling with the natural order of things.