Day 85 (Or: For the Boy-Child)

Fondness for boy-child, fondness for doing things, fondness for the results of doing things, and a desire to illustrate for boy-child that anything is possible, if we put our minds, hearts and energy into things...

That sentence, above, is ALL over the map, and filled with all sorts of good things, and is an introduction to my next several things.

Boy-child, who is almost 15, and who is a lovely little lump of stuffing (in my humble opinion), is taking a health class, and this class, and several other things have prompted boy child to make some important life decisions for me (yes, for me).

(1)  Apparently, according to boy-child, coca-cola is bad for you.  Boy child says that he doesn't want me to die an early death, and that he wants me to stop drinking coca-cola.  Now, it should be noted that Coke-drinking is not a daily, or even weekly occurrence for me, but I agree with the boy-child, and want him to know that it's (a) important to be informed, (b) important to make informed decision (c) important to follow through and live those decisions.  No more Coke.  

(2) Boy-child, being a very active and rambunctious young man, is a member of the Board of Directors for The ReCyclery, a non-profit organization geared toward increasing bike use, and says that he wants me to ride a bike, instead of hopping in a car.  He says that he wants me to bike just a little bit, every day, until I'm as in love with biking as he is, and primarily use my bike for things.  Geez, he's smart!  Bike.  Every day!

(3)  He also says that he's worried about my health, and that he thinks my hands are chubby, and he doesn't want me to develop type 2 diabetes.  Okay.  After a momentary (sigh) reflection on the reality of this, I'm not shy to admit that he's right.  No more chubby fingers.

It's a really good thing I live with such a smart person, and that he cares enough to share his concerns and encouragement.  I may be biased, but I sort of love him.

Boy-child for President, 2020!  

85 down, 915 Coke-free days to go.

Day 83 (Or: Stop! Collaborate and Listen!)

When in doubt, don't - Benjamin Franklin
When in doubt, do it - Oliver Wendell Holmes
When in doubt, tell the truth - Mark Twain
When in doubt, eat chocolate - me.

Into every life, a little doubt must creep.  A little:  "What the hell am I doing?"  A little:  "What the hell are YOU doing?"  A little: "FOR THE LOVE OF CORN, WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?"

When this happens to yours truly, I have a tendency to slide down a long slippery slope (lined with razor blades) of whininess, crabbiness, over-perfection, and ironically - avoidance.

Advice:  STOP!  Collaborate, and listen!  (Vanilla Ice - good in coffee, and good for a bit of comic relief...and...good for soothing a doubt riddled soul?)

Stop!  Hold it.  That's right, don't just gaze down the gaping maw of doubt, being ever drawn forward toward the things that might not even need to be asked, let alone have an answer.  Just check yourself before you wreck yourself, will you?

Collaborate! Good.  Now that you've pulled yourself back from the precipice, let's just see if we can put your head back on straight.  Let's get on that collaboration thing. I'm not sure what Vanilla Ice meant by "collaborate" (he goes on to describe how he "flows like a harpoon"...what a maniac), but what I mean when I say it is:

• (1.) Friends are important, and they're really good at helping one get to the heart of the matter (even when we don't want to go there) - it's an even better experience when there's chocolate involved.  
• So (2.) get with somebody else, get out of your own head, stop being so stinking self involved - give something, do something for others, be something other than what you're doubting.  It helps.  
• (3.) Testing?  TESTING!  So...are you really in the rut you thought you were in?  Did you find something better to focus on?  Did you decide that you're sort of all right in a funny sort of a way?  Excellent.  That's as it should be.  You're awesome.  We're all awesome, really.  Even when we're full of doubt.  
• Because (4.)  Doubt is an important part of the human process.  We question, and we solve.  That's what we do.  Drowning in doubt is one thing, but a healthy dose of doubt can nudge us toward something incredible, if we let it, if we don't dive face first into it, but instead gently take it in.

...And Listen!  Little doubt worms won't become big doubt worms if we ask ourselves daily what/who/why we are, and then answer...and then LISTEN.  Free journal (write and write and write), draw, intentional breathing, yoga, be with it.  IT being the question and the answer.  Listen to yourself, listen to friends, listen to the QUESTION in the doubt and the ANSWER in the dark.  It's all there, and these smaller questions, answered daily, are the key to living.

If Vanilla Ice says it's so, then it is.

Day 83 Down, 917 to go.

Day 82 (Or: What's That Chicken Doing?)

Maybe you don't remember this, but earlier this year (day 65, if we're counting, and we are) I pledged to do some things in the garden this year. Several things. Things like: Build raised beds to grow veggies in; plant fruit trees; raise chickens; raise BEES; and several other home-steadish things.

What actually happened:

I bought 5 fruit trees (two apples - a yellow and a red - a pear tree, a cherry tree and a plum tree) and planted them in order that the poor, pathetic, mangy neighborhood deer herd (yep, it's a whole fuzzy Bambi family) might have a nice midnight snack. And they did. Repeatedly.

I bought tomatoes (the deer ate them), and basil, pumpkin, cucumber, lettuces, and strawberries (the slugs ate them) and didn't plant them at all. By this point, the deer had decimated the fruit trees, and I'd basically given up on life.

We adopted a murdering chicken. Yes. There's a henicidal maniac bird living in my yard. And she's old, so there aren't any eggs, if you're thinking that there might be a marginal pay-off for adopting said bird. Henrietta (isn't that a sweet name for a killer chicken?) was banished from her hen-house after taking the Top Hen status one step too far. She killed a fellow chicken, and now she lives in our yard. Alone. And she crows (yep, she's top hen) every morning, and doesn't give us eggs, and poops everywhere. But she IS very pretty. So we sort of like her.

Also, GOOD NEWS! The quack grass has now invaded every last tiny corner of my life.

On the UP side, my new neighbors planted the MOST productive, verdant, healthy and incredible front lawn. Boy-child says the neighbors lawn makes him angry. I caught him lying in it the other morning.

I'm really glad Fall's upon us. I don't think I can take much more of this.

Day 82 down, which means that I have 918 more days to put up some deer fencing.

http://oneofonethousanddays.blogspot.com/2012/01/day-65-or-revolution.html

Day 80 (Or: How Do you DO This?)

Kew Gardens via

This is the garden I strive for

"I'm in a garden. My own. It started as nothing - in fact LESS than nothing - a barren, compacted, dust-bowl of a yard, with drainage issues..."

If we're going to describe what it's like to live a creative life (and we are - blame it on Kiera, she started it), this is where we begin. A creative life, for better or worse, is like tending an unruly garden...

This barren patch of nothing is, I realize, where every other yard-owning-wanna-be-master-gardener starts, but MAN is it tempting to move to another house, one with a garden already installed, one where there's security in knowing that all you have to do is show up, pull weeds, and reap the harvest of other people's work. And then you get to go back to "life" - whatever "life" is...but importantly, you're not tarrying in the dust-bowl that's a stand in for a yard.

I move piles of dirt around, I break my back, I spend hours imagining a French country garden, or a formal English garden, or a wild-flower garden. And I battle slugs, and I wrestle bushes, and I hack away at that persistent, thorny and invasive blackberry. And I try to keep myself from looking over the fence at the neighbors garden, where the grass is inevitably (and so cliche!) greener, and the hedges are preposterously polished, and even though I know they've taken all the shortcuts, hired big earth moving machinery, had the professionals in, planted the "easy" plants, used copious amounts of Round-Up and Sluggo, I want what they have.

This is the REAL state of affairs in my ACTUAL garden

My meager patch of weeds will NEVER be the glory of the neighbors yards. Never. What the hell was I thinking, imagining that you can be a...gardener... I notice the sideways glances from people driving up the street, and I think "if I could JUST manage to move that weed pile, and at LEAST have the boulevard in shape, maybe they'd all approve."

And then it happens. The worst thing imaginable. I'm tending a bed, doing as I should, and I kneel on a slug. Slime's everywhere, and trying to remove it just makes it MORE everywhere. I hobble around a corner, heading for the house and BAM straight through a spider web, and now there's spider and slug everywhere, and those little spiky seeds have invaded my socks, and I'm slimy, and itchy and completely discombobulate by nature's attack on me.

That's it! I can't stand it. I give up! Must-have-chocolate-and-Hulu! NOW! Ignoring is a management technique, right? And what horrible-slug-infested-thing isn't just a little bit more tolerable with chocolate? And if I'm watching re-runs of the x-files, I can't actually see the impending-doom-in-dandelion-form.

And then, two things happen:

(1) That rose bush? The one that's given me fits since I planted it two years ago? The one that I've shaped, coddled, clipped, de-mildewed and de-spotted (who knew plants mildew)? The one which causes me daily to wonder "what was I thinking, planting this fuss-pot of a plant?" It blooms. It's a delicate white, multi-blossomed glory. It's EVERYTHING I've ever wanted in a flower. And more.

and...

(2) Unbidden, un-noticed, a little pineapple strawberry plant has made inroads, and is producing the most divine, soft white ripe and delicate strawberries. I didn't even know it was there, and I did nothing to specifically love this particular plant, it's a gimme. It came about, simply because I was caring for the plants around it.

The garden: Blank canvas, work-work-work, doubt, judgement, work-work-work, frustration, envy, work-work-work, nature fights back, work-work-work, procrastinate and dally and indulge in chocolate, work-work-work, produce something incredible, work-work-work...and back to the beginning, work-work-work.

80 down, 920 to go.

Day 78 (Or: No Calorie Chocolate? Yes, Please!)

Did you know that there's such thing as CHOCOLATE COSMOS? It's a flower. And it smells like chocolate. Really!

This is what it looks like:

Image via

It looks like chocolate, too! Lovely! And I happen to know that Cosmos are silly-easy to grow.

So, anybody who knows me and has followed my blogginess, knows that I adore chocolate (and wine, and brie). That same person (there may or may not be more than one of you) has probably wondered if there's a better decision to be made, when one is in a kerfuffle, than burying ones-self in chocolate. And, although I'm being coy, here, what I'm really trying to say, is that I've got a chocolate problem. A big one.

Well! Not any more! Day 78 of One Thousand Days, over-indulging in SMELLING chocolate, and LOOKING at chocolate can't be all that bad, can it? No. No it's not. I've decided, and I'm not running this one by Holly for approval.

And to top it off, as I was rabbiting down the rabbit hole of the internet, I discovered THE most delightful gardening site, Heavy Petal, with an amazing post about all kinds of chocolate flowers. Weeee!!

Andrea Bellamy, the genius behind Heavy Petal, posts about the West Coast garden, and lovingly highlights foodses, decor and other gardening delights (such as CHOCOLATE FLOWERS!) Take a peek. You'll like it!

78 down, 922 to go.

Day 77 (Or: Earth Without Art is Just "EH")

I'm an artist. Sort of. I'm an aspiring artist? A wanna-be artist? A pseudo artist? Hmmm...

Okay. Maybe it's not fine art, but I do occasionally produce drawings/paintings/design/collage. Never sold any of it (other than monkeys). I do sell my design capabilities (as in...interior design, web design, graphic design - at Leckenby Co.), but never art. Yet.

I don't exactly have plans to become a visual artist, although I definitely have plans to continue artistically living my life - viewing, creating, appreciating, befriending... BUT! I live in this delightful artists community, where you can't swing a dead sable without hitting an artist or an aspiring artist, and as it happens, one of my besties runs a cooperative gallery.

THAT means that I get to shmooze with local artist appreciators, rub elbows with several seriously talented fine artists, and help disseminate art in the world. Generally.

Last month I started helping my friends on Gallery Walk night (the first Saturday of the month, new shows debut, artists are available for discussion, and generally, art is celebrated with food, wine and good company), and now, on the first Saturday of each month, and in particular, Day 77 of One Thousand Days, you can find me at The Red Raven Gallery, helping my friends Laurie McClave, and Sarah Fitch to make the world more beautiful and interesting.

Hints, should you wish to enjoy/partake of/or serve at a gallery walk:

1. Although gallery walk is known as a bit of a walking booze fest, never serve more than two fingers of wine, as you want people to be precisely smashed (not overly, and not underly) in order to effectively help them to appreciate/buy art.

2. By god, you'd better know what you're talking about, or believe that you know what you're talking about, or have an intention to know what you're talking about, if you want to talk about art.

3. Take that last little hint and stuff it in the toilet, because EVERYONE, and I do mean everyone, has something important to say about art. That's why there IS art. To get us thinking. And even if all you have to say is: "That looks like my cat!", it's a valuable assessment, in my book.

4. Do not - DO NOT - be a snob. Damnit. Yuck.

77 down, 923 to go.

Day 76 (Or: Moving On UP)

Moving is hard. Disgusting, overwhelming, dust-riddled, hard. There are things to be put IN to boxes. Things to be moved to places. Things to be taken OUT of boxes. And then there are all those things that won't fit in boxes.

Exhausting. My head hurts after writing that paragraph, and I have an urge to crawl into bed and never come out again.

Just packing a box to take to the Goodwill gives me PTSD. And surprisingly, it seems that this is my lot in life these days. That is, boxes. Boxes being packed. Boxes being unpacked. Stuff being moved from one place to another. Sorting. Packing. Moving.

Well, who am I to question? Yesterday, Day 76 of One Thousand Days, I did one of my favorite things: I helped someone else (helping other people is like my bottle of wine - it's soothing) with their boxes of loot. Spur of the moment, I put on my Moving Outfit (which closely resembles my every-other-kind-of-thing-outfit) and helped a besty move her boxes to a new house.

Sigh.

76 down, 924 to go.

Day 73 (Or: Organize, Organize, Organize)

Ran across this very succinct article regarding organization, written by Amanda Enaya: Why Clutter Matters And De-cluttering Is Difficult.

The article does a fairly great job of pointing out many of the realities of organization and disorganization.

I'm particularly fond of numbers, and found this little tidbit to be a great numerical representation of the ills of disorganization:

"Clutter is expensive: It costs an average of $10 per square foot to store items in your house and almost 10% of American households rent storage units, spending more than $1,000 annually in rent. One quarter of people with two-car garages can't even get their cars in there because they are storing their junk instead. Twenty-three percent of us pay bills late and incur fees because we have lost the statements.

How's this for a reality check? The average American spends one year of his or her life looking for lost or misplaced items, according to the National Association of Professional Organizers. Get rid of the clutter and you will eliminate as much as 40% of the housework in an average home."

Organization is a very large part of my life. Always has been, always will be.

Not that everything has always been organized, rather, organization has ALWAYS affected me, influenced me, and been something that I focus on in all areas of life - one might call it an obsession, were one so inclined to put a label on my...er...tendencies.

I remember, as a child, that my mothers pantry had open shelving. Now, this isn't unusual, many pantry's have open shelving. However, what I'm sure was unusual, was my 7 year old hatred of looking at mismatched cans, boxes, labels, housewares. Hatred. One of my first room-mate situations blew up in a million pieces on the first day, when the room-mate moved all of the pantry items onto an open shelf in the dining area. Instead of using the cabinets in the kitchen...AAAAaaaaagggggghhh! I moved out that night. Organization interruptus.

And then there's the work-space. I. Can. Not. Work. If. It's. Not. Square. Organize to look like this:

First, make things square. THEN work.

And my refrigerator magnets? Boy-child likes to tease me by ruffling them up. I, of course, notice immediately, and SQUARE THEM UP. Little maniac.

I have a friend who invites me over to her house in order to be amused as I square up her coffee table. It ALWAYS happens. Sometimes I don't even know I'm doing it.

All of this, and I can happily say that I'm now applying these organizational...er...tendencies...in a more direct way. I'm helping other people to learn how to be just as obsessive as I am! Or, at least, I'm applying my obsession to their spaces, to give them a newly launched organizational space. I organize, for folks and businesses, and I can probably attribute this little bit of newness to my Wild And Crazy One Thousand Days efforts (that is, the attempt to make better things happen in the world - for myself, for others...).

73 down, 927 to go.

Day 72 (or: The Lazy Cat's Lazy Lesson)

Everything I need to know I learned from the cat. Or from the 14 year old boy-child, but that's another posting altogether...

Lessons from a lazy cat:

1. Purr Make a joyful noise! Sing, hum, listen to someone singing or humming. Bask in good vibrations. That purr is a soothing technique. Of course, in nature it's designed to sooth a victim which will soon be in the cats belly, but as it applies to humans, it's a lovely concept, so PURR!

2. Drink the cream and eat all the boring food pellets as if they too were cream. That is to say, luxuriate in your life, in the treats and in the mundane as well.

3. Appreciate those who give to us. Practice gratitude. The hand that scratches our ears and furry bellies, the person who fills our bowl with cream (or pellets), the person who cleans up after us or just makes our lives bearable. They're gifts, and we should wrap ourselves around their ankles when they're trying to reach the bathroom in the middle of the night.

4. But not too much... Lest we forget that much of what we have in our lives, we've hunted for in the tall grass, and isn't handed to us in a platter, don't be afraid to self-congratulate, and luxuriate in our own tongue baths. What I mean to say: Neither depend too greatly on others nor give others the power over us. Be just a little bit aloof.

5. Nap No explanation needed here. Rest is good. Napping is good. That's why they call them Cat Naps.

6. Find the sun spot. This relates back to that cream thing, above. Find, in each day, the place where it's pure enjoyment, warmth and relaxation.

7. Find the soft spot. There's almost never a reason (unless it's medical) for discomfort. Fix it if it ain't comfortable. Find the pile of fresh laundry, the freshly made bed, the towel dropped by the 14 year old boy. Find that place and stay there for as long as possible. Or at least until the vacuum starts and you feel an overwhelming urge to climb the nearest tree and cower in its branches.

Lazy Cat Practicing Life Lessons

72 down, 928 to go.

Day 71 (Or: Throw Another Party!)

I've said it before, some Days are just a no-brainer.

Boy-child and I live in a charming CHARMING neighborhood. Our neighborhood is the old-fashioned kind, where neighbors share sugar, and recipes, and chat over the fences. Where kids (35 of them on two blocks connected by two public trails!) play capture the flag, hide out in the community tree fort, create block-long hopscotches and bike/skate/scooter in circles for hours. Parents yell for kids at dusk, and living rooms are frequently filled with 7 or 8 children for game nights.

14+ households abide along a two block stretch, and, perhaps because many of us partnered to build our houses with Habitat for Humanity, or perhaps because we're fun-loving, family-minded individuals, we've grown into a community which cares for itself. Blessed, we are.

Day 71 of One Thousand Days, we hosted the 2nd neighborhood Block Party BBQ of the season, and it was delightful! There were kids, party lights, seafood skewers, chocolate-mint-raspberry cake, and lime-ade, and LAUGHTER! We decided to petition the City for speed bumps and "Slow - Children at Play" signs, and have plans for creating a neighborhood food garden. Yay team!

If you've never done this before, I highly recommend it. After all, if we can't rely on our neighbors when the zombie apocalypse hits, we're pretty much screwed.

71 down, 929 to go.

Day 69 (Or: Some Advice)

69 down, 931 to go.

Day 68 (Or: A Lost Art)

HehehahhahahaaaaahahahahhHHHHHAAAAAAAAA! heeeHEEE!

That, if you can't ascertain for yourself, is a maniacal laugh, uttered while ringing my hands with joy, head thrown back and grinning like a mad woman.

I've got a bit of an obsession.  Okay, maybe I have several of them.  Maybe.  More than several.  But I digress (possibly because I'm obsessed with my obsessions)!  And I need to explain this Thing.

It's a hoot, really.

There's this t.v. show, you see.  It's called "Lost."  You may have heard of it.  It ran for a few seasons and then it ended.  ANDILOVEITSOMUCHICAN'TSTANDIT!

If "Lost" were a man, I'd marry him.  If he'd have me.  He'd probably be in a psychiatric ward, but I'd still marry him.  And I would have a constant, endless, remarkable and intriguing inspiration for the weirdest One Thousand Days ever.  That would be awesome.

I won't bother trying to describe "Lost."  There are already so many lovely reviews of the show, it's characters, it's quirks.  Google it.  And besides, you could probably fill an encyclopedia trying to explain it all...

Again, my obsession has diverted me from my aim, which is to inform you that you can now die a happy person, because THERE IS a god, and She in her infinite wisdom, has seen fit to direct some genius to come up with this:

YES!

So, today's Thing, (truly a good thing, considering the alternative) is that I will NOT read through each and every one of the 7,252 articles in the Lostpedia.  I will only read the one about the Polar Bears.  For now.  Tomorrow I'll read the rest of them.

HHHHhaaaaaaaaaahaheheheheeeeeeee!

68 down, 932 to go.

Day 65 (Or: Revolution!)

Stumbled across this today:  Not in the StumbleUpon sort of way, in the it appeared in my Facebook "news" in several different forms:

Similarly, I stumbled across this (again, in the accidental visitation, sort of a way, not in the SU sort of a way):  

I'm inspired.  Have been for a while.  I want chickens and bees and a garden full of food - fruits, vegetables and herbs.  This is the year!  I'm doing it!  Day 66 of One Thousand Days, I lay out the yard plan to accommodate (almost) all of these lovely things - more research on bees in my urban area is needed before I commit to a herd of yellow and black fuzzies.  

The Dervaes family is an incredible inspiration for such remarkable works.  I've seen them on YouTube:

...and in a myriad of wonderful magazine and blog articles.  Take a minute to check out their website and blogs:  http://urbanhomestead.org/about

And, if you care to, add The Urban Farm to your reading list, and start drawing up plans for your summer bounty!  

66 down, 934 to go.

Day 64: (Or: See What You Want To See)

Two neat things:

Thing one:  iGoogle.  Seriously.  Insert your feeds, your favorite sites, cool gadgets for getting things done, inspiration, calendars, email links (if you can't find or make a gadget HERE, chances are, someone's made one and put it on the interwebs, just Google "my-favorite-thing iGoogle Gadget"), and NEVER AGAIN suffer the indignity of stupid news.  Or, at least minimize the stupid news.  Relief!

Here's what my iGoogle home page looks like - or part of it, anyway:

And thing number two:  A Good Book:

Maira Kalman.  If you've never seen her work...well...I'm sure you have.  Even if you didn't know what you were looking at.  Charming illustration, charming story-work, charm.  And one of her latest endeavors is a collaboration with Michael Pollan, of Food Rules fame.  And their collaboration, a second edition of Food Rules, RULES.

Find it, preferably, at your local and independent bookstore.  Or, because I love libraries, your local library. Either way, find it, read it, enjoy it, and live it.  Day 64 of One Thousand Days, I did.

64 Down, 936 to go.

Day 63 (Or: On Snow and Love)

The Eskimos had fifty-two names for snow because it was important to them: there ought to be as many for love. Margaret Atwood

Day 63 of One Thousand Days I continue to ruminate on Love. And I'm still a bit cold. If you hadn't heard, we were visited by Snowmageddon over here in the Pacific Northwest.

63 down, 937 to go.

Day 62 (Or: Standing On The Side Of Love)

Martin Luther King, Jr., Day began 30 days of the National Standing on the Side Of Love month.

Take a moment, visit Standing On The Side Of Love, and join in.

Click on over and join the movement.

I did.  And do.

62 down, 938 to go.

Day 61 (or: Faith, Hope and Love)

...And the greatest of these, is LOVE. Or charity, depending on your version of the Bible (let me be clear, here.  I am NOT a bible thumper, nor will I ever be one, but knowing what the great books have to say about the world we live in is, in my humble opinion, important).

Love.  Charity.  Same, same.

Or...is it?

Definition matters, I suppose, so what of this charity thing - which in my mind, has a very different connotation than love.

The Urban Dictionary, defines charity -erm- well, would you look at that! That's not at ALL what I thought it would be.

1.	Charity	573 up, 172 down
	the coolest chick you could ever meet. Beautiful, brilliant, peaceful, down to earth, and wicked sweet. also the greatest and most loyal friend you could ever have.....

And it goes on...in a remarkably ridiculous way.  Pffft!

On to the next definition?  Dare we?   Google Dictionary says thus:

char·i·ty/ˈCHaritē/

Noun:	The voluntary giving of help, typically money, to those in need. Help or money given in this way.
Synonyms:	alms - mercy - beneficence - benevolence - philanthropy

This definition, is closer to containing those negative connotations I have about Charity as a word.  Frankly, neither of these is very satisfying, nor do they actually mean anything close to love.  Money?  Hot girls?  Um.  Weird.

MOVING ON!

Merriam Webster, oh lovely and stalwart definer of words, defines Charity a little more to my satisfaction:

Definition of CHARITY

1

: benevolent goodwill toward or love of humanity

2

a : generosity and helpfulness especially toward the needy or suffering; also : aid given to those in needb : an institution engaged in relief of the poorc : public provision for the relief of the needy

3

a : a gift for public benevolent purposesb : an institution (as a hospital) founded by such a gift

4

: lenient judgment of others

That's better.  There's that "L" word I was looking for, and it makes room for the generosity of spirit which is equivalent in my mind, to Love.  Eschewing with the negative connotations and focusing on the charity which is synonymous with love.

Today, day 61 of One Thousand Days, I love the generosity of spirit which allows the open sharing of information on the interwebs, so that I can discuss (not at length) the merits of Love and Charity.

61 down, 939 to go.

Day 60 (or: The Sunday Hiker: Welcome Guest Blogger Cara Leckenby) of One Thousand Days

The Sunday Hiker: Welcome Guest Blogger Cara Leckenby of One Thousand Days

Clever. Remember this? It was clever, clever, clever. And I thought I'd re-post it as a tribute to...um...myself. I can do that, right?

60 down (I know, this one's questionable, but I'm counting it anyway!), 940 to go.

Day 56 (Or: Oops, I skipped a day!)

One of the stalwart One Thousand Days readers (one of the 27), when I pointed out that I'd skipped day 56, said that she considered it her good deed NOT to tell me that I'd made a mistake.  HA!  I love it.

But we can't just leave that hole there, can we?

No.  So here we go. 

Last night, or early this morning, in the last throws of the dream-state, when all of the wonderful and meaningful thoughts coalesce and gel into a sub-conscious lump of destiny, I dreamed the most lovely things.  I was in an old building, tall ceilings, dark wood, and glowing light, and I was teaching a small group of women a hand craft.  Something involving rose-buds and doll-making.  And toward the end of the class, the mayor came into the room and sat on the edge of the group. 

I watched her watching what we were doing, and eventually she reached in for a rosebud and started fiddling with it.  I let the others work on their projects and went and sat with the mayor and started at the beginning of the project again. 

In the dream, the mayor was very much The Mayor, but there was no political talk, I purposely refrained from drawing attention to her, or from putting her on the spot or getting a conversation going about local issues (of which there are many).  Instead, my focus was to build a bridge between The Mayor, her personal self, and the people - the others in the class.

Ramblerambleramble.  All of this, I realized upon waking, is really a symbol for the joy and hope that I feel about current projects (monkeys) and work (Leckenby Co.). Day 56 (which isn't really day 56) of One Thousand Days I build bridges through crafting.  I.  Love.  It.

56 down...and...oh you know the rest.

Day 59 (Or: The Great Monkey Maneuver)

You've been hearing about it, and now it's happened!

No, I didn't lose my mind.  And no, I haven't started a speed dating group...and no, I most certainly haven't finished my novel.  Geesh.  There's a whole lot that I haven't done.  But what I HAVE done, this morning, Small Business Saturday, is launch The Great Monkey Maneuver!

What's this, you wonder?  "Frankly, I think you HAVE lost your mind, darling." You mutter under your breath.  I heard that. 

Here's the thing.  Sock monkeys.  They're totally adorable.  And enjoyable.  And they make me laugh.  Seriously. 

I made one monkey, every stitch by hand, loving the feel of the sock and the thread, and loving the funny ears and the hillarious red butt.  And he charmed my boy and I in ways that we hadn't imagined.  And then the most amazing thing happened.  My favorite 2 year old boy came over, walked straight to the monkey, picked the monkey up by the tail, poked at a button eyeball, and immediately took the sock-turned-monkey to show his mama.  The monkey clearly belonged to him, and now he has a name - "Hoo-Hoo-Ha" - and a premanent home with a most delightful boy.

I WANT MORE OF THAT!  I want monkeys to be EVERYWHERE and I want to be the one to make that happen!

The Great Monkey Maneuver, I'll have you know, is a sock monkey and 40th birthday initiative. I will be 40 years old in one week, exactly. And in honor of my 40th birthday, I will sell 40 sock monkeys!

In case you're curious, here's the original, the loving, the adored-by-favorite-2-year-old-boy Hoo-Hoo-Ha:

And I donated this monkey to a service auction, to raise money for QUUF:

And I'll donate THIS monkey to my favorite non-profit kid place and coffee house, The Boiler Room, for their auction, coming up in December:

And the rest are yours! 

So, The Great Monkey Maneuver, is a sale of 40 monkeys, to be housed in 40 homes with 40 loving children or children at heart.  All in honor of turning 40 years old.  Because when you get old, it's important to engender the joy of being young. 

And what's more, the first 40 monkeys will come with a $4.00 discount when the lucky purchaser uses the coupon code: 40MONKEY
Yes. 

Day 58 of One Thousand Days may just be the most wonderful yet.  Monkey business.

59 down, 941 to go.