I'm posting here a list of categories I plan to tackle. Dealing with this mess of a house in part-acts.
Marie advises working in order, from clothes, to books, to papers, to komono (Japanese for miscellany, which is a very large category around these parts), to sentimental items.
So far, it seems I am not being very true to the method, as I've jumped right in to komono..
I hope to get back in order soon but it turns out that the first three categories are SO vast and all encompassing that I have not been up to taking them on, in the limited time I have to devote to this project. I have this feeling that Marie works mostly with single people living in single rooms or small homes, not people trying to organize the clothes, books and papers for an entire household...
I am hopeful that breaking things down will help me feel more empowered.
Please feel free to comment and add category ideas!
Clothing (per person):
Exercise clothes/ swimwear
loungewear/pajamas
Socks
Coats
sweaters
daily wear-- summer
daily wear-- winter
shoes
accessories -- bags, scarves, belts etc
jewelry- done!
Books-- subdivided by person:
reference
fiction
sentimenal (old textbooks, etc)
Papers:
household files
school-related
saved papers for each child
photo albums
Linens:
towels/washcloths
cleaning rags
sheets/blankets
Dishes:
Mugs- done!
glasses
plates/bowls
pots/pans/baking
tupperware/storage/travel mugs
misc cooking
serveware
display/special dishes -- what do I do about those??
food:
baking
pantry
Medicine cabinet supplies
Games
Art supplies- done!
Scrapbooking supplies
Office supplies
notebooks/paper
Toys:
Building toys
play kitchen
dress up
puzzles
pretending sets
miscellaneous
Tools
hardware
electrical cords/lightbulbs/batteries
small appliances
picture frames/art/framed photos
Sports gear (skiing etc)
camping supplies
laundry supplies
Basement (on here as a reminder that I fully intend to get rid of 80% of what is down there, regardless of category, with the exception of my holiday decorations which are sacrosanct. Kidding. They're just stored already and I'll deal with them as each holiday rolls around...)
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
July 22
Carrying on. I've nearly finished reading the book, and found the section on storage to be calming and reassuring. Especially since I've already starting storing a bit, and so far seem to be doing it "right." Key takeaway: Store items of the same category together, in ONE location, in simple storage that is accessible and where all things can be seen.
Yesterday (a busy wonderful day that included time at the Art Museum, time working in my classroom and tutoring, a run at the beach, singing with WSC, and drinks with old friends) demanded a manageable category, so Ivy and I tackled my jewelry. Marie advises that you do the work alone and I can see why. My sweet girl wanted to take every single item back out of the discard pile. She was placated with three pairs of earrings to save for when she gets her ears pierced. Not an approved method but it worked at the time.
Turns out I have a lot of broken beaded necklaces and single earrings. And it turns out I have a HARD time getting rid of jewelry. In retrospect (and further reading) I ought to have saved this category for later as many of the items fell squarely into the "sentimental" subgroup, which Marie recommends saving for the very end. Oh well. This selection was purely pragmatic, as my old storage system consisted of one divided tray and then a large heap of tangled necklaces on my dresser top, thus rendering most of my jewelry unwearable. Also, I discovered a shocking number of tiny boxes and other miscellany completely filling a dresser drawer, and a whole array of items carefully stored (and covered with dust) in the little shelving system I put in the back of my closet a few years ago. Once again, too many spots.
Here's the accumulated pile:
And the improved situation. You can't tell in the picture but there are only three pairs of earrings in each divider, which is a huge improvement. And there is NOTHING in the drawer.
Well, nothing except a whole batch of empty tiny boxes. Because boxes are another category. And I hate throwing away perfectly good tiny boxes...!
I am still learning.
Yesterday (a busy wonderful day that included time at the Art Museum, time working in my classroom and tutoring, a run at the beach, singing with WSC, and drinks with old friends) demanded a manageable category, so Ivy and I tackled my jewelry. Marie advises that you do the work alone and I can see why. My sweet girl wanted to take every single item back out of the discard pile. She was placated with three pairs of earrings to save for when she gets her ears pierced. Not an approved method but it worked at the time.
Turns out I have a lot of broken beaded necklaces and single earrings. And it turns out I have a HARD time getting rid of jewelry. In retrospect (and further reading) I ought to have saved this category for later as many of the items fell squarely into the "sentimental" subgroup, which Marie recommends saving for the very end. Oh well. This selection was purely pragmatic, as my old storage system consisted of one divided tray and then a large heap of tangled necklaces on my dresser top, thus rendering most of my jewelry unwearable. Also, I discovered a shocking number of tiny boxes and other miscellany completely filling a dresser drawer, and a whole array of items carefully stored (and covered with dust) in the little shelving system I put in the back of my closet a few years ago. Once again, too many spots.
Here's the accumulated pile:
After discarding: One large tupperware bin is off to be donated, and I parted out a bunch of necklaces into a bag of beads which are neatly stored in the craft cupboard. I do have to admit that 4 broken necklaces are still out on the coffee table with plans to fix them. I am still learning.
I am still learning.
Monday, July 20, 2015
Tidying up
On Friday we said goodbye to our treasured cottage.
It is hard to leave a space like this. It calls me back in and says, stay. Be at peace. Breathe. Life is good and all things are possible.
It is such a tiny little space. It doesn't feel that way, somehow, with its vaulted ceiling and open floor plan, but there's not much to it. And while there's ever plenty of antique furniture in every room, there's not much else. All of the basics for day to day living, but only the basics. Just enough.
I can deep-clean the cottage in an hour. Fifteen minutes a day keeps it spiffy. The biggest mess is our clothing and with just a little attention it's possible to keep things in order and reap the rewards of a glowing, happy living space.
A clean house with room to breathe AND plenty of free time NOT spent cleaning? It really is paradise.
Then, we come home.
Ok, the above picture is an exaggeration. Our house didn't really look quite like that upon our arrival. But it felt that way to me. I've spent the last few days feeling intensely overwhelmed by ALL THIS STUFF. It's everywhere, our stuff. We have the basics.. . and then some... and then some more. And all my time! If I'm not picking something up, I'm wandering around trying to find something else...And this house is NOT small when you are walking around it 3 times trying to find some goddam scotch tape, I'll tell you that,
Enter this book.
I actually ordered this while we were at Farley's, because I knew it was coming, this malaise and discontent with my home. Happens every year after we leave the cottage. This year, though? It's the year of action so I am DOING something.
I am TIDYING.
And I am going to use this blog to chronicle the journey. Come along if you like. Apparently it will be life changing.
We will see about that. From my first foray I can tell you that at the very least it will take a LOOOONG time.
Marie Kondo's method for changing your life through tidying appears to be based on three main tenets: 1. throw a shit ton of stuff away. Like, 2/3 of what you own. 2. tidy by category and do ALL of each category in one go. 3. only keep things that "spark joy" and store them where they can be seen and used.
Number three seems to sum up life at Farley's, utterly. And so I am totally buying into this. I am DOING it, gosh darn it. Every year I try and try and try to bring "lake life" home. Maybe this is the trick. And even if it's not, this house could stand some tidying.
The above picture is the "before" of category number 1, Art and Craft Supplies.
These supplies were gathered into a heap from five disparate locations. I am not sure why we felt the need to keep craft supplies in five different locations. Must be ready to craft at any moment, in any room!! Or something.
And why in god's name did we need SO MUCH crafting crap? We could run a small preschool with that pile. A very disorganized preschool...
One of the principles from Marie's book-- you need to get all of the things in each category in ONE place, to really know just how much you have, how far into TOO MUCH you have gone. Then, handle each object and only keep it if it sparks joy. Otherwise, thank it for its service and let it go...
A few hours and 6 trash bags later, our Art and Craft Supplies are all here:
I was so completely overwhelmed by that pile of craft stuff. Perhaps even more so by the knowledge that this is just one tiny little category in this huge house of mess. But I focused, and handled each object, and tried my best. I am not sure I was entirely true to the system. I mean, really, does a jug of washable tempera paint really spark joy? No. But is sure is darn useful when you need to entertain a batch of kids. And entertained kids DO spark joy. So there.
Category 2 (a small one today as we had to spend a good deal of the day out on Lake Erie in Becca and Joe's boat, poor us...)
Mugs.
These are the mugs we are either letting go of, or storing neatly in a box for Fake Christmas Morning.
And these are the ones that made the cut, accessible and visible and ready to be enjoyed on this shelf above the coffee maker. I didn't manage to get a picture of our overcrowded mug shelf before but trust me when I say that this is MUCH more joyful.
Friday, November 7, 2014
November 7
Focusing on the positive tonight after a long and tiring week at work.
I am grateful that I get to have long and tiring weeks at work, in this world where so many cannot find work.
I am grateful for wonderful, inspiring co-workers who commiserate and support, who are like minded and believe in what we are doing, perhaps more than I do these days.
I am grateful that at moments, my job rocks. Moments like when I get to be paid to watch an amazing iMax movie about the South Pacific.
I am grateful for coral reefs (and really want to visit West Papua now).
I am grateful for dinner with friends, for easy conversation and three happy little girls, for book recommendations and venting about school, pasta dinner and harvest tea and laughing at the dog until we cry. I've missed Fridays with our friends recently. Tonight felt good.
I am grateful that I get to have long and tiring weeks at work, in this world where so many cannot find work.
I am grateful for wonderful, inspiring co-workers who commiserate and support, who are like minded and believe in what we are doing, perhaps more than I do these days.
I am grateful that at moments, my job rocks. Moments like when I get to be paid to watch an amazing iMax movie about the South Pacific.
I am grateful for coral reefs (and really want to visit West Papua now).
I am grateful for dinner with friends, for easy conversation and three happy little girls, for book recommendations and venting about school, pasta dinner and harvest tea and laughing at the dog until we cry. I've missed Fridays with our friends recently. Tonight felt good.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
November 5
What better time to resurrect the Thirty Days blog than November, the original month of gratitude?
And how better to do it in classic Amanda fashion than 5 days late?
You guys, daylight savings time is killing me this year. Seriously. I'm twice as tired as usual at night and yet still twice as tired in the morning, too. More and more to accomplish, less and less time. Or less and less daylight, at any rate.
Definitely needing me some gratitude.
So here goes. We'll just call it 20 days instead of 30, and shoot for now til Thanksgiving, sound good?
November 5
Tonight I am grateful for the blue skies and warm weather that graced the day. Not many of these days left, I fear, so I am holding on to each one. I am even more grateful that I got to be outside, albeit briefly, in that wonderful weather this afternoon, by virtue of running to the UPS store over lunch. It has been such a crazy year, this is the first time I have been able to step out at lunchtime. Need to do it more often. I am so grateful for fresh air.
I am also grateful for Starbucks iced Americanos. Nothing tastes more sublime on a blue-sky, fair weather day. The taste of this drink , paired with sunshine glancing off the plastic cold cup, has the power to transport me to the base of Vail mountain, on a spring break almost 9 years ago. My first spring skiing in Colorado, my first iced Americano. Together forever.
I am grateful that I have the memory of skiing Vail mountain. We led a charmed life indeed, all those years ago. I'm not sure we knew just how charmed. But I think we did enjoy it thoroughly and I am grateful for that.
I am grateful for quiet evenings with my kids, for our local grocery store where the deli workers hand my kids a cookie while we wait, where the children know where to find everything as well as I do, where there is never a line at the checkout. Seriously. It is a terrific grocery store.
I am grateful for leaf-finding walks with bikes and scooters and dogs, for feet and wheels swishing through leaves along the sidewalks in the gathering dark.
I am grateful for a bright, blue, full moon blazing between the trees.
I am grateful for bedtime stories and two children that love them, for my daughter's questions and my son's ability to tune out the world when he picks up a book. I am grateful for the glimpses of myself that I see in them, for the bit of immortality that comes from the way Jack-- just like me-- compulsively reads any words he sees; from the way Ivy --just like me-- loves to turn the world into a great game of pretend.
I am grateful for graham crackers and milk at bedtime.
November 4
I am grateful for family and music tonight. Grateful that we live so close to my mom-- grateful for her presence in the world, the simplicity of family dinner at her place every week, the gift of time she gives to Nat and I when she keeps the kids, the gift of time she gives to them.
I am grateful for the weekly walk Nat and I take in Lakewood park. I am grateful that we went today even though it was rainy, because it always works out to be more perfect that we imagine. Tonight-- a gray lake blending with a gray sky, a foggy city skyline int he distance, lights twinkling, smooth soft air, a happy spaniel prancing along the path.
I am grateful for my choir, for my wonderful director, for the bits of music theory he effortlessly teaches us, for the challenge of learning music and the joy of making music. I am grateful for the friendship of Fiona, my driving buddy, for the stories she regales me with and the inspiration she provides.
November 3
November 3rd was a Monday. the Monday after Halloween AND daylight savings time. It was not an easy day. Looking back, I'm having a tough time coming up with much. I suppose that night I was grateful that the day was over. And that my kids did well at their piano lessons, both reportedly picking things up quite well. I am grateful for this opportunity for them to build a musical foundation.
November 2
I am grateful for IKEA, for sunny chilly driving days and consumer therapy and making a low-key weekend memorable.
November 1
There's a reason I didn't start this right away. It's called rainy, 40 degree weather. I don't do well with rainy, 40-degree weather. I was kind of a grump on Saturday.
I am looking forward to letting the practice of gratitude get me through the rest of November unscathed...
And how better to do it in classic Amanda fashion than 5 days late?
You guys, daylight savings time is killing me this year. Seriously. I'm twice as tired as usual at night and yet still twice as tired in the morning, too. More and more to accomplish, less and less time. Or less and less daylight, at any rate.
Definitely needing me some gratitude.
So here goes. We'll just call it 20 days instead of 30, and shoot for now til Thanksgiving, sound good?
November 5
Tonight I am grateful for the blue skies and warm weather that graced the day. Not many of these days left, I fear, so I am holding on to each one. I am even more grateful that I got to be outside, albeit briefly, in that wonderful weather this afternoon, by virtue of running to the UPS store over lunch. It has been such a crazy year, this is the first time I have been able to step out at lunchtime. Need to do it more often. I am so grateful for fresh air.
I am also grateful for Starbucks iced Americanos. Nothing tastes more sublime on a blue-sky, fair weather day. The taste of this drink , paired with sunshine glancing off the plastic cold cup, has the power to transport me to the base of Vail mountain, on a spring break almost 9 years ago. My first spring skiing in Colorado, my first iced Americano. Together forever.
I am grateful that I have the memory of skiing Vail mountain. We led a charmed life indeed, all those years ago. I'm not sure we knew just how charmed. But I think we did enjoy it thoroughly and I am grateful for that.
I am grateful for quiet evenings with my kids, for our local grocery store where the deli workers hand my kids a cookie while we wait, where the children know where to find everything as well as I do, where there is never a line at the checkout. Seriously. It is a terrific grocery store.
I am grateful for leaf-finding walks with bikes and scooters and dogs, for feet and wheels swishing through leaves along the sidewalks in the gathering dark.
I am grateful for a bright, blue, full moon blazing between the trees.
I am grateful for bedtime stories and two children that love them, for my daughter's questions and my son's ability to tune out the world when he picks up a book. I am grateful for the glimpses of myself that I see in them, for the bit of immortality that comes from the way Jack-- just like me-- compulsively reads any words he sees; from the way Ivy --just like me-- loves to turn the world into a great game of pretend.
I am grateful for graham crackers and milk at bedtime.
November 4
I am grateful for family and music tonight. Grateful that we live so close to my mom-- grateful for her presence in the world, the simplicity of family dinner at her place every week, the gift of time she gives to Nat and I when she keeps the kids, the gift of time she gives to them.
I am grateful for the weekly walk Nat and I take in Lakewood park. I am grateful that we went today even though it was rainy, because it always works out to be more perfect that we imagine. Tonight-- a gray lake blending with a gray sky, a foggy city skyline int he distance, lights twinkling, smooth soft air, a happy spaniel prancing along the path.
I am grateful for my choir, for my wonderful director, for the bits of music theory he effortlessly teaches us, for the challenge of learning music and the joy of making music. I am grateful for the friendship of Fiona, my driving buddy, for the stories she regales me with and the inspiration she provides.
November 3
November 3rd was a Monday. the Monday after Halloween AND daylight savings time. It was not an easy day. Looking back, I'm having a tough time coming up with much. I suppose that night I was grateful that the day was over. And that my kids did well at their piano lessons, both reportedly picking things up quite well. I am grateful for this opportunity for them to build a musical foundation.
November 2
I am grateful for IKEA, for sunny chilly driving days and consumer therapy and making a low-key weekend memorable.
November 1
There's a reason I didn't start this right away. It's called rainy, 40 degree weather. I don't do well with rainy, 40-degree weather. I was kind of a grump on Saturday.
I am looking forward to letting the practice of gratitude get me through the rest of November unscathed...
Saturday, April 5, 2014
April 5-- Runner's High
I think I'll take this moment to ramble on a bit about my first 11 mile run, right now at this moment when my endorphins are running high and I love the beauty of life and this ache in my hips and knees.
After starting off with wind and grey and even a few flakes of snow, the day transformed itself into perfection, blue blue cloudless sky and a crisp 50 degrees. It begged me to get outside, this day, so after a morning of shopping and family time, I laced up and headed out on a bit of an odyssey. I decided, while driving back from Lakewood, that it was about time I run through Rockefeller Park. After all, I've driven through that park for my whole life, taking MLK to the highway at least once a week for the past few years. But I've never walked through even one of the cultural gardens, can you imgine? I clocked the distance and found it to be just over 5 miles and so I set off with my goal in mind....
What a wonderful way to be a tourist in my own city, winding my way down the hill, through Case Western, a little detour to scope out a $40,000 house just up from the park, gawking at the mansions on Wade Park and East Boulevard along the way. I ran up and down some stairs in the Italian Garden, and underneath two of the wonderful bridges. At the playground-that-time-forgot I happened upon a group of deer, who looked up at me calmly then went back to grazing. A moment of kinship. Or perhaps they were just secure in the knowledge that I was already moving at my maximum speed and they had nothing to worry about. At 8 miles I found myself at the pond in front of the Art Museum and allowed myself 1 minute to stop and stretch and revel in this city I call home. I ran along Euclid, making plans to attend the Music at Meditation on Wednesdays at that one beautiful church. I headed up hill through Little Italy, noticing details on buildings I'd never seen before, the charming hidden gardens on the hillside. Running up Edgehill, hitting the steepest of the hills I'd encounter on the way home, my Pandora playlist came through, with a little "Fix You" timed just right to sing (gasp) along and keep up a 9:30 pace through to the top.
Mile 1-3, warm up, excitement to be on an adventure. Hardly noticed them passing as I concentrated on my route.
Mile 4-5, an adventure, finding the little house to look at (no backyard, sorryy, no dice) and then finding my way down to the park. Fast miles, feeling good-- good enough to run up and down those stairs. Smiling at fellow pedestrians, enjoying the warmth of the sun.
Mile 6-- A little slow. No more downhills. Flat and long through the park. A road I've driven before so no more mystery either. I found myself checking my distance. A lot. Fifty degrees started to feel a little too warm.My knees began to yell at me.
Mile 7-8 Heading up out of the park. Winding along that stretch of MLK we never drive, carefully avoiding geese. Feeling surprisingly fine, positive, in love with life and springtime mud and the fragility and perfection of it all. Loving the all the people out walking on Euclid, a wonderful random collection of humanity. Finding even construction sites to be beautiful .Runner's High, anyone?
Mile 9-10 Hills. That's all.
Mile 10-11:30. Every single step hurt. But running felt a great deal better than walking actually, so I plodded on.
I'd planned to run 12 miles today. But I didn't have the heart to keep going that last .70 when I found myself one block from home. Some days, 11:30 is enough. Today was one of those days, and I am feeling fine about it. Sore, tired, and rather hungry, but fine.
It's odd to feel this good after spending two hours of my fleeting weekend time torturing my body while very slowly traversing a route I could drive in 10 minutes.
Right now, I can't think of a better way to have spent those hours.
After starting off with wind and grey and even a few flakes of snow, the day transformed itself into perfection, blue blue cloudless sky and a crisp 50 degrees. It begged me to get outside, this day, so after a morning of shopping and family time, I laced up and headed out on a bit of an odyssey. I decided, while driving back from Lakewood, that it was about time I run through Rockefeller Park. After all, I've driven through that park for my whole life, taking MLK to the highway at least once a week for the past few years. But I've never walked through even one of the cultural gardens, can you imgine? I clocked the distance and found it to be just over 5 miles and so I set off with my goal in mind....
What a wonderful way to be a tourist in my own city, winding my way down the hill, through Case Western, a little detour to scope out a $40,000 house just up from the park, gawking at the mansions on Wade Park and East Boulevard along the way. I ran up and down some stairs in the Italian Garden, and underneath two of the wonderful bridges. At the playground-that-time-forgot I happened upon a group of deer, who looked up at me calmly then went back to grazing. A moment of kinship. Or perhaps they were just secure in the knowledge that I was already moving at my maximum speed and they had nothing to worry about. At 8 miles I found myself at the pond in front of the Art Museum and allowed myself 1 minute to stop and stretch and revel in this city I call home. I ran along Euclid, making plans to attend the Music at Meditation on Wednesdays at that one beautiful church. I headed up hill through Little Italy, noticing details on buildings I'd never seen before, the charming hidden gardens on the hillside. Running up Edgehill, hitting the steepest of the hills I'd encounter on the way home, my Pandora playlist came through, with a little "Fix You" timed just right to sing (gasp) along and keep up a 9:30 pace through to the top.
Mile 1-3, warm up, excitement to be on an adventure. Hardly noticed them passing as I concentrated on my route.
Mile 4-5, an adventure, finding the little house to look at (no backyard, sorryy, no dice) and then finding my way down to the park. Fast miles, feeling good-- good enough to run up and down those stairs. Smiling at fellow pedestrians, enjoying the warmth of the sun.
Mile 6-- A little slow. No more downhills. Flat and long through the park. A road I've driven before so no more mystery either. I found myself checking my distance. A lot. Fifty degrees started to feel a little too warm.My knees began to yell at me.
Mile 7-8 Heading up out of the park. Winding along that stretch of MLK we never drive, carefully avoiding geese. Feeling surprisingly fine, positive, in love with life and springtime mud and the fragility and perfection of it all. Loving the all the people out walking on Euclid, a wonderful random collection of humanity. Finding even construction sites to be beautiful .Runner's High, anyone?
Mile 9-10 Hills. That's all.
Mile 10-11:30. Every single step hurt. But running felt a great deal better than walking actually, so I plodded on.
I'd planned to run 12 miles today. But I didn't have the heart to keep going that last .70 when I found myself one block from home. Some days, 11:30 is enough. Today was one of those days, and I am feeling fine about it. Sore, tired, and rather hungry, but fine.
It's odd to feel this good after spending two hours of my fleeting weekend time torturing my body while very slowly traversing a route I could drive in 10 minutes.
Right now, I can't think of a better way to have spent those hours.
Monday, March 24, 2014
March 23-- Becky
Today is my friend Becky's birthday and I am so happy to write about her. Becky is one of my oldest friends. Well, not really oldest, she's younger than me... but we go way back. Back to that golden age at Hiram, back to The Group, The Friends. She is one of the ones that has shaped who I have become and I am so grateful to have her as a part of my life.
How to describe Becky? The first words that come to mind are: kind, honest, unapologetic, and brave. There is so much more to Becky than meets the eye. When you first meet Becky-- or perhaps, hear her voice from several miles away (sorry, Becky, you know your voice carries! :) ) you might miss the complexity of her, and only notice her sense of humor and her fierceness of spirit. Not that those things aren't enough! In fact, Becky's fierce tenacity is one of the things I admire most about her. I have always wished I could emulate her forthright speech and brash confidence. Becky is a true friend and will go to the ends of the earth for the people she cares for. She will also fight the forces of hell to right a wrong. Woe to those on Becky's bad side! And what a friend to have for those she loves!
It seems that what I love most about my friends are the things I have discovered underneath the amazing faces they show the world. The secret about Becky is the sensitive and gentle soul she keeps just beneath all the jokes. She cares deeply and passionately for friends, family, animals. She is a brilliant scientist with an analytical mind I cannot fathom. But she never makes anyone feel less. She is always approachable, down to earth, real.
Becky has faced so much adversity in her life. She is beautifully resiliant and has only stood straighter against the obstacles she has faced. Nothing will keep Becky down for long; she is my role model for bravery.
I miss Becky these days. Our lives have pulled us apart and I don't get to spend hours talking with her or reveling in nature with her or telling dirty jokes over a drink. (Someday soon, Becky??) But she should know that she is in my heart every day, a little piece of me. When I am brave, when I stand up for myself, when I fight injustice or just give someone a piece of my mind, I am channeling Becky, and grateful to call her my friend.
How to describe Becky? The first words that come to mind are: kind, honest, unapologetic, and brave. There is so much more to Becky than meets the eye. When you first meet Becky-- or perhaps, hear her voice from several miles away (sorry, Becky, you know your voice carries! :) ) you might miss the complexity of her, and only notice her sense of humor and her fierceness of spirit. Not that those things aren't enough! In fact, Becky's fierce tenacity is one of the things I admire most about her. I have always wished I could emulate her forthright speech and brash confidence. Becky is a true friend and will go to the ends of the earth for the people she cares for. She will also fight the forces of hell to right a wrong. Woe to those on Becky's bad side! And what a friend to have for those she loves!
It seems that what I love most about my friends are the things I have discovered underneath the amazing faces they show the world. The secret about Becky is the sensitive and gentle soul she keeps just beneath all the jokes. She cares deeply and passionately for friends, family, animals. She is a brilliant scientist with an analytical mind I cannot fathom. But she never makes anyone feel less. She is always approachable, down to earth, real.
Becky has faced so much adversity in her life. She is beautifully resiliant and has only stood straighter against the obstacles she has faced. Nothing will keep Becky down for long; she is my role model for bravery.
I miss Becky these days. Our lives have pulled us apart and I don't get to spend hours talking with her or reveling in nature with her or telling dirty jokes over a drink. (Someday soon, Becky??) But she should know that she is in my heart every day, a little piece of me. When I am brave, when I stand up for myself, when I fight injustice or just give someone a piece of my mind, I am channeling Becky, and grateful to call her my friend.
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