Adieu Zolo, Hola 20!!

Oh I just love a good New Year’s mystery. Groom and I perambulated this afternoon with our cameras and these photos were taken today, the last of 2010. When we arrived at the post office, there was a package waiting for us. Inside was a book titled The Art of Good Living by Svevo Brooks.

The manila envelope displayed an unfamiliar address and no name, nor did it have any kind of a note. We have no idea who sent us the book, but we’d like to thank you. The interesting thing is that Groom and I were talking about the kind of year we’d like to create if 2011 came with no limits. We were discussing the “art of good living,” and then, as we walked back toward home, amazed by the mystery book, we saw God’s name written on the sidewalk.

I just wrote a couple of days ago about how quickly time flies, including a video of a cartwheeling clock, so I won’t spend any more words today concerning that aspect of the current year ending and the new one arriving.

To briefly recap, 2010 became known as Z0l0 when a friend misinterpreted my handwriting. Sad to see the year of Zolo passing, it occurred to me to give thanks for all the blessings that occurred within it and instead of giving 2011 the cold shoulder because it’s new and hasn’t proved itself yet, to actually set an intention to be more welcoming and anticipate the adventures that await.

Inspiration floated in the other day while considering the possibilities for 2011. Suddenly I saw its potential expressed as 20!! and have decided to spell it by substituting two exclamations at the end instead of using the traditional symbol for eleven. Coincidentally, the exclamation point and the number one is located on the same keyboard button, it just requires a simple shift.

Hmmm, a simple shift. Shift happens.

In our household, we don’t make resolutions. I mean, I could say that I’ll lose the extra 10-pounds, join a gym, promise to be a better human being (we heard a cockney accent pronounce it “hoo-man” the other day), and be more generous of spirit, but why lie?

I’ve discovered that starting out the year listing all my faults is not a good incentive for change; it just makes me feel bad. Instead, Groom and I started a new tradition last year and this evening we get to continue it.

A year ago on New Year’s Eve, we took some time by ourselves and wrote out a list of things we either wanted to achieve personally, see or experience. I don’t know what Groom wrote and vice versa. We agreed that a year from then, which is today, we’d pull out our lists that we kept in a very special place and take note of how many of them came to pass.

Then, we’ll write out another set of intentions and see how our lives grow, develop and expand by the end of 20!!

We hope all of us, you most definitely included, are here together next year. We extend our blessings that it is a year full of good health, safety, humor, fun, joy, bonding, prosperity and well-being.

Thank you ZoLo and we bid you adieu. Hello 20!! Welcome.

Happy New Year!

Doin' the Time Warp

Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so. – Douglas Adams

I’ve always been suspicious, similar to the animated Toy Story movie trilogy where the toys come to life when the humans aren’t looking, that clocks either move forward or backwards when we’re not watching them.

For example, at work, the clock can stand perfectly still, imitating a statue, but when people are having fun or nod off to sleep the clock speeds up because we all know we didn’t get eight full hours when that darned alarm goes off.

On Christmas Day, just before our dinner, we were all discussing how quickly time flies. A heartbeat later, I hear Groom exclaim as he pointed to the clock. We all looked up in shock as the hands, behaving as usual a moment before, started spinning rapidly around its face, hour after hour passing before our eyes in an instant.

None of us could believe it, but there it was - time flying - and we caught it in the act. I grabbed my phone and Groom used the video feature to capture half a day going by. “Experts,” whoever they are, have warned that in 2011 and 2012, time will speed up even more. After what I seen, I’m a believer.

Which is probably why Benjamin Franklin said, you may delay, but time will not. Or why Albert Einstein suggested that the only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.

As most of you know, I just love a good quote, so I’ll leave you with a few more.

We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they’re called memories. Some take us forward, they’re called dreams. – Jeremy Irons

Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday. – Proverb

Time is more valuable than money. You can get more money, but you cannot get more time. –Jim Rohn

And my favorite of this batch…There is only one you for all time. Fearlessly be yourself. – Anthony Rapp

Solstice of the Eclipse

The future Sun King of France, Louis XIV, was born in 1638. Charles the First was King of England and Delaware became a colony. On June 25th of that same year, a lunar eclipse was the first astronomical event recorded in the U.S.

Shakespeare missed it, having already been dead for 22 years, but Galileo might have seen it from his little house in Italy, had he not gone totally blind the year before.

For the first time in almost four centuries, a total lunar eclipse coincides on the Winter Solstice for a cosmic occurrence: Today the sun, the earth and the moon are all aligned.

While it might be the shortest day of the year, it is a mighty one, filled with all kinds of cosmic and human activity. With less than 100 hours remaining until Christmas, I’ll wish you a Merry One.

While visions of sugar plum fairies dance in our heads, we’re also dreaming of a white Christmas… white beaches in Sunny Mexico, but that’s another story.

Bright Lights, Small City

Psssst…We discovered Santa’s secret. Did you know he really lives in a small trailer with Donner and Blitzen on the outskirts of the Pole? But more on that in a moment. First I have to ask, what happens if you wake up one morning and don’t understand your own culture?

That’s kinda what happened to us yesterday. I realize that we live in a bit of a bubble, a snow globe of our own, designing jewelry at home in our studio and then going out in public to sell it. But the public we mingle with are folks who attend art fairs and alternative festivals.

But yesterday, Groom and I did our annual day of Christmas shopping. I know, I know, there are people who can hardly believe that we only pop into the mall once a year, and even then it was for less than 15 minutes yesterday; two stores for specific wish lists. We usually shop at the Eugene Saturday Market and locally owned shops, so we are very spoiled.

But as we buy for those on our Obligatorium list (see Obliga-what? 12/10/10 ), we must venture out of our small, comfortable world and see what the other homosapiens are up to. It wasn’t all that pretty. We saw somebody write in purple ink on a napkin, “Big, Fat Slob,” and stick it under a windshield wiper. I guess it was their way of spreading “holiday cheer.”

After a full day of semi-fruitful shopping, we were picked up by a friend to join six others in a brand new, 2011 stretch limousine to gawk at Christmas lights for the evening. But we didn’t just see houses whose electric bills alone could finance a small country, we saw all kinds of larger than life inflatable characters and that’s when we discovered Santa’s downsized living conditions.

In spite of the commercialism, I heard a great line today from an audio book I’m listening to. Someone asked, “I need help, how do I connect with God?” Answer. “You are the connection point (as opposed to something or someone outside). Don’t try to be spiritual, just be yourself.”

Goat Romance

I told this story to a vendor at the Eugene Holiday Market last Sunday and she started tearing up, saying there was hope yet for good relationships out there. Her response made me consider sharing it with you, although tears are optional because it made me laugh as well.

For those of you just tuning in, friends in Southern Oregon have a couple of kids. Nothing unusual about that, except the “kids” are goats. And by goats I mean hairy beasts with pointy horns and cloven hooves. So what? Lotsa people have goats.

Yes, but in their homes? Goats that lounge by the fire chewing cud or sit on the couch watching television and cuddling with their human “parents?” How many goats you know that have their own Santa stockings hanging from the mantle or wear leopard print customized diapers? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Because 150-lb goaties that dwell indoors take a lot of work, Goat Papa decided to take Goat Mama on a romantic holiday come Christmas. Last August, after he discovered that her favorite musician, Italian tenor Andrea Bocelli, would be in Las Vegas for a one-night only concert, he knew his challenge, should he accept it, would be to get her to that concert without her knowing. In other words, a surprise.

But a very important piece of information is that Goat Mama, while human, is more like a dog with a bone. If she even whiffs of a hint of a plot, she’ll dig and dig AND dig until she unearths it. Goat Papa knew who he was up against and decided to take her on.

Formulating his plan, the first step was to throw her off the scent. Concocting a story about winning free tickets to a Barry Manilow concert in Vegas, he managed to invent an email to himself from the “radio station” that she would stumble upon. Because he kept the free concert fable under wraps, Goat Mama thought she discovered something she wasn’t supposed to and when confronting Goat Papa with it, he acted all disappointed that his “surprise” was ruined. She was cackling, pleased to have discovered his secret.

But did she? Mwa ha ha.

Of course, Groom and I were in on it from the beginning, so we managed the appropriate combination of glee, horror and happiness for a convincing response when they told us about their plans of flying to Sin City to become “Fanilows” for an evening.

His mother was also in on the plot. She purchased the spendy Andrea Bocelli tickets using her own credit card so there would be no paper trail for her blood hound of a daughter-in-law to chance upon.

And then there was the inevitable moment when Goat Mama learned that her beloved Bocelli was appearing in Las Vegas, for one night only on the very same evening as the “stupid Manilow concert.” Oh the lamenting. Of course, she had to check into ticket pricing and was even more disappointed to discover that at this late date only the very expensive seating remained (uh, gulp, like $2,000 a piece).

Up to the final minute, when the limousine picked them up from their Luxor Hotel around 7pm this past Saturday evening, December 11, 2010, she still had no clue. As their swanky ride headed toward The MGM Grand Garden Arena, Goat Papa played the offensive and commented how few signs there were advertising the Manilow concert. A little sulkily, she mumbled that it was because he was no big deal anymore. Ouch!

Cuddling in the back seat of the stretch, he handed her a card in which he professed his ever-present love and finally, after months of plotting, planning, close calls and hand wringing, gifted her with the real concert tickets. What, no Barry Alan Pincus Manilow after all? In an instant, her desire became manifest… great seats to hear the blind, enigmatic opera singer, Andrea Bocelli. Oh gracious, the water works. I hope they got flood insurance for the limo.

Of course, we heard about this blow-by-blow as texting is an easy and convenient way to convey quick messages such as “in the limo now.” But we also received a phone call right away, as soon as she had those hot tickets in hand. Phew! So glad the cat’s out of the bag.

Although Andrea has a gorgeous voice, personally, it also would have been fun to hear, “Her name was Lola, she was a show girl with yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there…” on the strip from the man himself.

Whatever your tastes, you can’t argue with love.

Obliga-what?

A brand new word just floated into my brain from the ethers this week. I always believe (for about 10 seconds) that I made it up, but then, thanks to the power of Google, I’m always amazed that somebody else has thought of it, too. And first.

It’s similar to having one of those vocabulary building calendars that teach you a new word each day, but without any print or paper. More like subscribing to a “Celestial Download” word-of-the-week club. And it’s free!

So, for the teensy span of time, between the fresh word floating down from the sky like a feather and me looking it up online, I feel this excitement of having just invented something new. “Groom,” I say enthusiastically, “I just made up another word!”

“What is it, dear?” he asks faithfully, knowing in a few minutes I’ll lament the fact that my new shiny word is already listed in the Internet dictionary.

In my imagination, before presenting it to him like a gift, a drum roll precedes the fanfare, although I am the only one who can hear it.

“Obligatorium,” I say with a flourish. Sometimes I curtsey.

“That’s a curious one,” he says. “What does it mean, is it a place?”

Oh yeah. Hmmm...good question. I search around in my mind, and it feels like a humorous word, a real yet not real place, kinda like a guilt-trip. It’s an emporium to shop for people on your Christmas list that you really don’t want to buy for, but would cause hurt feelings if you didn’t. “I think I’ll pop down to the Obligatorium and pick up that present for Uncle Pervie and Aunt Gossip.”

It’s the warehouse for all the stuff we have to do, but don’t wanna, the ties that bind, the long hours we put in, anything that has to do with obligations. When I looked it up online, three words defined it: obligation; a bond.

I don’t really have an ending to this entry, but if feels odd to just stop so I’ll mention the photographs. They were taken at the Eugene Holiday Market last Sunday, December 5, 2010. If any of you have curious words to share, we’d love to learn about them. However, we’ve had many people email us or tell us in person that they’ve tried to leave a comment, but some curious technical hitch is in the giddyup and hasn’t allowed it, so don’t get discouraged. Thanks!

Let Them Eat Cupcakes

The vendor across the way at the Eugene Holiday Market makes these giant cupcakes. Only they are made of candle wax. Lately I feel like I’m burning the cupcake at both ends.

Yesterday, Kimmmm and I went out on a girlie date for her birthday. Coincidentally, she chose a delightful bakery that serves gluten-free, can you guess? Cupcakes! The slender boy behind the counter began his recitation of flavors, but he only got as far as “chocolate lavender,” before both us of said yes at the same time. Jinx.

Unfortunately, he meant two different flavors, one being chocolate and the other lavender. I was momentarily disappointed, my tastebuds excited to try something exotic and new. However, memories of a lavender mousse shared at an outdoor café in Provence, France, inspired me to select the purple cupcake.

This was not a well thought out decision. It looked good. I peeled back the biodegradable paper liner and sank my fangs into the spongy confection. Uh-oh, it tasted exactly like I was biting into my microwavable heat pack.

You see, it’s kind of chilly at our house during the winter, so to keep warm I use a lavender/flax seed filled neck pillow, the scent of which is activated each time I heat it. Experts say smell is the number one access to memory and all I could think of when nibbling my cupcake was that I might be sleep-eating my neck pillow! Yeah, it didn’t taste good to me.

After I tried to scrub my tongue and then wash away the association with a strong cup of coffee, we went to The Bijou to watch Heartbreaker, a French comedy starring Johhny Depp’s wife, Vanessa Paridis.

And as if that little vignette about choosing the wrong cupcake wasn’t enough excitement for one day, here’s a photo or two (or three) of our latest jewelry pieces.

Shodding in The Market

I’ve always looked at shoes as being immensely beautiful things. – Graham Coxon

Oh goodness, I must be tired. Groom and I started out for a walk and we managed to get part way down the block before he stopped and pointed. “You’re going to wear those?” he asked. I hadn’t even noticed that I was still wearing my pink slippers!

One of the most famous elements of Cinderella is her glass slipper. Part Cinderella myself, I fancy exotic footwear and my camera is often drawn toward the floor to see what others stand on. Los zapatos featured in these photos were all taken at the Eugene Holiday Market last Sunday, November 28th.

The symbolism for shoes includes wisdom and “understanding,” because they are actually under our standing. Shoes represent our foundation, what we stand on, our walk in life, our movement forward and how we carry ourselves.

Of course, their primary function is to protect tender soles (souls?) at the connecting point to the earth. An important part of any spiritual walk is being both connected and grounded, an important balancing act if we want to stay upright in the frenzy of 21st century life.

While it might not be sound advice to make friends simply based on tootsie wraps, shoes do have a way of revealing facets of personality. I wonder what my slippers reveal about me? Whoops, never mind.

Aaarrgg!

Groom and I spent another weekend selling our jewelry at the Eugene Holiday Market. We tend to move a little slower on Monday mornings, relishing a moment or two of not having to rush, although we have already started the process of creating stock for next weekend.

The main dress-up theme for yesterday was “Pirate Day,” although any and all costumes, attire and ensembles are welcome, just as long as you wear something. Saturday got a bit exciting when one man slipped a little on his reality and started undressing, but no worries, security is used to at least one person each year feeling the need to streak and it was handled gracefully.

Speaking of slipping, I came home Saturday evening and received a dreaded phone call that my 79-year old mother slipped and fell in the shower and slammed her spine on the edge of the porcelain tub and then lunged forward, hitting her head. My father was calling from the ER while she was having a computerized axial tomography scan (or CAT).

Thank God nothing is broken, but I was quite shaken. I tried to fall asleep Saturday night, but I kept seeing images of my poor mama slipping and falling over and over again. She has a giant purple goose egg on her forehead. Shudder.

In the spirit of keeping this light, short and not burdening you with all my current emotions, I will simply mention that I’m about to get a massage, take a soothing hot shower and cuddle up with Groom, a movie and a cup of tea. Mondays, what’s not to love?

Autumn Snow

Like most of the Willamette Valley, we woke up to snow this morning. After the sun came out to clear the sidewalks, Groom and I walked our cameras (they become very crabby if we leave them cooped up for too long). These four images were all taken within the same 45 minute period.

Since the opening of Holiday Market went pretty well, we’re back in the studio, finishing up a few pieces for when it opens again on Friday. Also sipping lots of hot tea. Hope you’re keeping warm, healthy and safe.

One Down, Four To Go

In a flash, the first weekend of the Holiday Market is over. All the stress to get everything finished becomes a distant memory when the doors open and people rush in. The reunion of favorite clients, dear friends and charming vendors add to the pleasurable mix of mingling with new people and attracting new sales.

I didn’t get out of the booth much, save for the last little bit of Sunday evening, which means no photos of the dress up days. Saturday was velvet day and since I don’t own any, I bucked tradition and did not participate. Sunday was hat day and I wore my black top hat, no surprises there.

These three photos were sweet touches I noticed in booths near ours. As for our new layout, we really like it and had positive responses.

Set-up Day at Holiday Market

Today was set-up for the Eugene Holiday Market, which starts tomorrow and runs every weekend through Christmas Eve. Groom and I arrived at 11am, when the main hall of the Lane County Fairgrounds was relatively empty. Although it was raining, we found the perfect parking spot and an empty cart to haul our booth accoutrements. For vendors, this is exciting stuff.

This is the tape marking our booth. We’re #190 and I always look forward to the message written on it. “Wecome home.” How sweet is that?

It took us six hours from start to finish, two hours longer than I had anticipated, but we recently purchased two free standing glass cases, so there was a new layout to try. We’ll see tomorrow how it works when the event opens.