Pink Eye and the Fog

The week before Christmas, with many gifts unwrapped and projects unfinished, I came down with pink eye. I had never had it before, so at 54 years old with a goopy, itchy eye, I became quite disabled. For three mornings I woke up with my eye sealed shut with the crusty infection. During the day, it would itch so much that I would have to lay down with a hot cloth over my eye and just rest. This isn't something that I normally do - especially during the holidays - to lay down with nothing but my thoughts. I did a lot of thinking.

One of the things I thought about was the precious gift of sight. Having had Lasik surgery 4-5 years ago, I still have the doctor's orders in my memory, "Do not rub your eye!" And so, as I rubbed and rubbed, I would worry about whether it was possible to move that top layer around and injure the eye further or even go blind. I'm not sure if people who have never had eye surgery would worry about that over a simple case of pink eye, but I did.

At one point, laying on the bed at John's house, I was thinking about what my life would be like if I went blind. Although my mind turned to something that I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit, I am actually glad that it happened. It was a moment of clarity about where my focus should be in the New Year. John and his son were in the living room watching television which I could barely hear and I lay in the quiet bedroom with a warm cloth over my eye. I thought, "If I were blind, I would not be so distracted by other things. If I were blind, I would focus more on Christ and prayer." Within seconds of this thought, I was incredibly aware of what had justs gone through my mind and I was humbled. I really need to remember that and focus more on Christ. I need to learn how to overcome distractions to devote myself to Him.

I was finally able to drive and make it back to the Beach House on Sunday night and I awoke in the morning to a thick fog over the Chesapeake Bay and the lovely song of fog horns from the ships out on the bay. As I sat in the back room listening to the fog horns and drinking my morning coffee I thought about the beauty of that lonesome, mournful sound. Ships calling out in the fog to one another, "I'm here! Take note!" My thoughts went to my previous musings about being blind, and I felt instantly that God was underscoring that with the sound of the fog horns. The Lord said, "I'm here! Take note!"

I am not a New Year's Resolution type of person. Seriously. I'm not in bad shape, but I am not motivated so much by creating challenges for myself. I seem to focus more on relationships than getting in shape. In 2014, I enjoyed some wonderful milestones and a few setbacks. I'm pretty happy with my life and I don't feel like I would be happier if I weighed less or made more money. But I do feel the yearning for a closer relationship with my maker. I remember how I felt when I relied on Him more and I do want to work to get that back. I remember my morning coffee and Bible reading and how that set the tone for my day. I remember the fellowship I felt when I belonged to a church and I miss that.

In many ways, my relationship with God is better than it was back then and in others it's not. I think the best place to start may be what I was shown in the week leading up to Christmas. Be still, close your eyes, just wait on the Lord's fog horn and follow that sound.

Faith and Worry, Worry and Faith

The last few days have not been good. I've allowed myself to be pulled in to someone else's issue. It's hard - I love my daughter, my family, my friends, my fiance - and it took me a long time to learn that people sometimes have to go through their own stuff.

When finally, after a long, ugly path, I allowed myself to surrender to the love of God, I would often think about how hard it must be for Him to watch us and not intervene. I know He could. And sometimes we wonder why He doesn't. It's hard to be a parent, I think of what God must experience as He watches us flounder around and make the same stupid mistakes over and over again. I imagine that He spent a lot of time doing a "face-palm" when it came to me. And I'm sure He still does from time to time. But I'm starting to learn that I don't have to know the outcome of everything and I don't need to manipulate and orchestrate events. I also don't need to get involved in other people's stuff. Yet, I still sometimes do.

Watching someone you care about struggle to make sense of what the right things to do or say are is painful. The struggle is real, y'all! They say that we often lost patience with people when their floundering about reminds us of our own. This is certainly true in this situation. I remember many years ago, when I was in a relationship that was not good for me, I would talk to my friends about what I should do. Every single one of them said, "You know what you need to do, you need to end this relationship." But I wasn't ready. What I wanted them to tell me was one more thing that I hadn't tried yet. A dear friend would say to me, "Life is too short to spend it wanting to be with someone who doesn't want to be with you." I would think to myself, "What is he talking about?" I laugh about it now - but I had no idea how those words applied to my situation at all! Another friend would say, "I guess you just haven't had enough yet." I must have been an extremely frustrating person to be around.

So, I pray for patience and discernment. I pray for their heart and their peace. And most of all, I pray that whatever the outcome of this situation, that it will lead them closer to the God who loves them unconditionally. I am a very poor substitute for the unconditional love and grace of God.

Ridiculous Curiosity

It's been awhile since I wrote a blog post. It's certainly an easier forum for sharing my opinions than commenting on Facebook but for some reason I enjoy the back and forth there. And I have to admit that for the last couple of years my desire to comment on current events has been largely about politics or things that I don't necessarily think relate to the spirit of My Beach House. Soooo, we come somewhat full circle back to a desire to comment on other interests of mine: the spiritual, books, creativity, art, clean eating, motherhood, and more. Just not politics! And so, if you're in fear that I am indeed as one-dimensional as you have suspected, I promise no politics.

Really.
Pinky-swear.

There really are a lot of things to explore. Because I do have a ridiculous curiosity for things. Lots of things. They don't even connect sometimes. The state of education means a lot to me. But so does music. And that I am drawn to older music lately through Spotify and Pandora channels that I've discovered. How I try to stagger my reading: fiction, non-fiction, fiction, etc. Or that for the last six months, other than a movie here and there, my television viewing has been exclusively Gilmore Girl reruns and sports. Go figure.

I think I have some things to say. It's okay if very few people are interested. Writing is sort of like navel-gazing. It's a drawn out selfie in some ways - one wants to please their audience but realizes that authenticity has its own magnetism.

Flight 93 Memorial

Quite by accident we ended up at the Flight 93 Memorial on Saturday of this Labor Day weekend. For various reasons, we had not taken a ride on the motorcycle since the beginning of July and we were really looking forward to going on a long ride. The weather was not looking good but of the three days in the holiday weekend, Saturday held the most promise. And it appeared that heading northwest from Frederick, MD was the best bet.

I mentioned that I'd read The Johnstown Flood by David McCullough, and that I knew there was a Johnstown Flood National Park there that might be interesting to check out, so we headed west in that direction. Once we reached Rt. 219, we headed north towards Johnstown and that's when we saw a sign that said "Flight 93 Memorial Highway." We checked the map and saw that if we headed east on Rt. 30 it would take us to the Flight 93 Memorial.

As we entered the town of Shanksville, Pa we started seeing a lot of other motorcycles turning into the Flight 93 National Memorial - which is maintained by the National Park Service. The drive leading up to the park is a couple of miles long. As you survey the area it dawns on you just how far away from the road this place is. It's incredibly remote and must have been difficult for responders to even reach this place.

Coincidentally, all the other motorcycles were part of the "Brothers for Flight 93 Memorial Ride" that rode from Philadelphia to Shanksville that day. There must have been fifty other bikes. When you walk up to the entrance you are greeted by a sign that reminds visitors of the somber nature of the memorial and to act accordingly. And there are exhibits by the Visitors Shelter that tell the story of Flight 93.

Some distance away from the Visitors Shelter, on the other side of the parking lot was a cordoned off section called "1st Amendment Zone" where there was a lone gentleman with a table and signs that said, "9-11 Was an Inside Job." Presumably he had literature to pass out along those lines. I was glad that they had made a space for him away from the actual memorial.

After we walked around and read the signs, we walked up the beautiful granite walled Memorial Plaza. It was so quiet even with so many people there. Every few feet, there were little ledges cut into the black granite where people had left mementos and notes to honor those killed there. After the first few feet, I found myself reaching out for John's hand. And off to the left in the middle of the field was a mound of grass backed by a grove of hemlock trees. In the front of the mound were several small American flags. I was struck just by the simplicity of it. That was it. There at that mound was the center of the crash - where at 10:03 a.m. on September 11, 2001, a plane crashed at 563 m.p.h. killing all 44 people (including 4 hijackers) aboard. We stood there just looking out and holding hands. I noticed alot of people doing the same. There was a need to hold on to another life while taking all this in.

Crash site, pictures of the victims, mementos left at Memorial

At the end of the Memorial Plaza is a beautiful white marble wall. The wall is set up in the same direction as the flight path. Etched into the marble are the names of those 40 passengers that died that day. The brochure says that 13 cell phones made 37 calls in the moments after the plane was hijacked. I wonder how many of those calls were placed for those passengers that didn't have phones. During the 35 minutes between takeover and crash, these brave men and women made a decision that would take their lives and save countless others. At the end of the marble wall there are openings that give you a direct view of the mound in the field from the exact direction of the flight. It is chilling.

I immediately saw names of the three men that led the counter-attack.

As we walked back up the Memorial Plaza, we took a moment to look at some of the mementos left on the granite wall. One note, paperclipped to a small American flag, read, "You are all heroes. Thank you for your courage. You fought for all of us." And another person left a guitar pick. Before we got back on the bike to take the long winding path back to the main road, we took one last look back at that hill of dirt in the field. We didn't plan to go there, but I'm so glad we did. I think about the families that lost so much back then and I remember picking up my daughter from her 1st grade class that day. I didn't want her to hear about this from anyone but me. So young, so innocent, I wanted to hold her in my arms and keep her safe. Amazing, it seemed like only yesterday, but she started her senior year of high school just last week.

 As we turned back on to the main road, the skies opened and we rode home in the rain. We spent the next three hours soaked to the bone as we rode through the storms, but it just didn't seem appropriate to complain.

Senior Year Starts in Two Days

This last 18 months has been pretty amazing. The baby and I have taken many trips, including college tours to University of SC, University of FL, University of NC, FSU, College of Charleston and University of N. Florida. We took some other fantastic trips and spent great times with friends and family. I have even found myself in a wonderful new relationship with an awesome man that my friends and family all like. He and I spent the last week on the shores of Ocean Isle Beach, NC with some of his friends, while the baby stayed behind for football practice. As we drove home yesterday, it dawned on me that this is it. Senior year starts on Tuesday and there's no turning back.

I posted a note on Facebook that says, "These kids grow up hella fast," in an effort to tone down my real feelings. It seems so cliche to ask, "Where did the time go?" but that is what I'm thinking. Seems like these last couple of years that we've been talking about colleges and SAT's and what she wants to be when she grows up and getting a driver's license, I have just passed through in a daze. I really haven't spent a lot of time thinking about her finally growing up and moving on. We get along so well, and I know that no matter where she goes, she'll never completely be gone, but we're in for a lot of changes. It seems like these last couple of years, she's been the one hugging me and wiping my tears rather than the other way around.

On Tuesday, she'll start her last year of school and in no time, we'll be shopping for prom dresses. How does a mom go from this:

First day of school Sept. 2000

First day of school Sept. 2000

To this: 

Maddie on the left with new friend, Aug. 2012

and keep her sanity? 

It's so bittersweet to watch her excitement for all the possibilities her life has to offer. She's been such a joy and is rarely unhappy. Tonight, two days before school, she is off with two friends to work on a summer assignment. The world, so to speak, is her oyster and while I'm thrilled for her, I can still remember when she was afraid to spend the night away from me. As she chomps at the bit to embark on her life as an adult, I know that all the efforts to protect her and shape her can sometimes mean nothing if this world wants to get hold of her. I pray that all the hours of pleading with God to guide my parenting and to teach me what I need to teach her have been enough. She has never belonged to me - she is His - I just pray that I've lived up to God's expectations. 

My dearest friend, my niece who is 2 years younger than me, became a grandmother for the first time yesterday. I know that in those hours that she stood by her daughter's side that she was completely overcome in the same way that I am today. Her oldest child, only seven years older than mine, is a beautiful wife and now mother of her own precious daughter. The world continues to turn, our family grows, and we give all the glory to God. 

Bathroom makeover

Our little beach house has one bathroom. That's right - one. bathroom. And there's a teenage girl living here! The entire first floor of our house is painted in a khaki color by Benjamin Moore - Berkshire Beige, which works well with the tan and smokey blue accents in the living and dining room. The color was a bit dark though for the bathrom, and when I changed the shower curtain and towels to a pretty aqua color, it still seemed too dark. Additionally, as the towel bars were loose and kept threatening to pull out of the wall, I decided it was time to make a change. I enlisted the help of my favorite handyman who pointed out that it might not be as easy as I hoped!

Bathroom - before with towel rod, old color and some
paint color testing on the wall.

It's hard to see from the picture, but the towel bar is attached to a piece of chair molding that was hung at some point in the last thirty years. My handyman mentioned that the chair molding was probably put there because the wall was unable to hold the towel bar - and that was because the studs were not the proper distance from each other. He also was concerned about what we would find behind the molding since it appeared to be glued on and not nailed. At this point our goal was simply to remove the chair rail, paint the bathroom and then hang a shelf that I had purchased that would have towel hooks on it. This would take away the need to have a towel bar.

Here's what was behind the chair rail. 

After removing the chair rail and discovering that it covered holes made by past towel bars, we had to come up with another plan. We talked about bead board, but the bathroom has very little air circulation and can get extremely humid. This can cause normal wooden beadboard to warp or buckle. Handyman didn't want to use that. So as he checked out options, I was still checking out paint. I really liked a Benjamin Moore color - Pismo Dunes, which you can see in the center of the three test colors, but it was just as dark as what was already there. I settled for a color in between the two right test colors, also Benjamin Moore - Hot Spings Stone, with their "Super White" trim.

After - with new paint, paneling and shelf with towel hooks.

We decided to cover the bottom half of the wall with a composite beadboard and trim. This glued on, and then he used a few nails for security in the studded areas. He had to do this the day we left for vacation since he needed to brace it for over 24 hours to make sure the glue held. With only one bathroom, this needed to be done the morning we left town! He used caulk to cover the nail heads and they're almost invisible. The lighter paint color helped to give a little bit larger appearance of a very small bathroom. The shelf had to be placed a bit higher so that it didn't sit right on top of the wainscoting but the towel hooks are not too high since there are no small kids here. In keeping with my "beachy" decorating, I also love the towel hooks and think they add alot to the cottage-y feel.

Distressed shelf with towel hooks.

I purchased this shelf over a year ago - it was a colonial mustard color and had four wooden pegs instead of metal hooks. I followed instructions I found on Pretty Handy Girl's blog called "How to Age, Antique and Distress," that I had pinned to my "Projects" board on Pinterest months ago. I painted the shelf two coats of an aqua color - Peace River by Ace. I bought the 4.75 oz. tester and it was enough. Then I used the super white and painted two coats of that. Following the instructions from Pretty Handy Girl - we used the handheld power sander to make the paint look aged and worn. You can't see it well but the aqua shows through beautifully. Then, again following the instructions, we painted on a little oak stain and wiped it off immediately, to give the wood an aged look. I love the way it turned out - don't you? 

Here's a few more views of my bathroom makeover. What do you think?

Other than the paint change and the starfish-shaped dish
of seashells, this side stayed the same.

I added the large conch shell, the lantern and a few other
items to the top of the shelf.

"Near the sea, we forget to count the days."

By the way, I found the shower curtain on a sale endcap at Target about two years ago and have never seen it since! This gives my bathroom a one of a kind look! They didn't even have towels to match it, I had to get them at Macy's.

Sewing Pillow Covers

I want to state outright that this is a post about making pillow covers. There may be moments while you read this that you will think, "Wait, wasn't this a DIY post?" and you'll be right to be confused because lately my mind wanders - alot. And by alot, I mean way more than my usual unfocused, ADD self.

To start, I will admit sheer embarrassment at how quickly and easily I finished these two pillow covers for the spare bedroom makeover. For all the time and energy I put into putting it off, I could have made a dozen or more of these things. But my mind doesn't work in a logical, linear fashion. If you know me, you are probably laughing at the understatement of that comment. My train of thought is something like this: Birthday, Daughter, Missing my mom, graduation cards, Words with Friends, Pictures, Sewing pillow covers. Got it.

Coral chevron pillow

Friday afternoon I decided that Sunday would be the day I made the pillow covers. I had previously found a great blog post which gave easy instructions for a no-pattern, envelope-style pillow cover that could be removed for washing. I'm linking you to a blog called Setting for Four in case you want the instructions. Saturday was out because we were planning to celebrate my BFF Betsy's birthday with a cookout, just us girls. So I dug out the sewing machine and washed all the gunk off it from sitting idle in storage for the last 3-4 years and put it in the back room where I would be using it.

Betsy's gifts

My green-eyed girls 

 Birthday girl!

I wake up this morning - somewhat excited about my project and I promptly start sabotaging the day. The girl is going off for the day to work on a school project with friends and stop by a graduation party. For no reason whatsoever, my fear of her growing up kicks in and I start harping on her about always being on the go. Poor thing - she has done very well for having a mentally ill mother. And I don't know why my fears always come out in a lecture. Fortunately, she's used to me! She leaves and I feel bad and give myself a lecture. Then I leave to get coffee and stop by the Gypsy Vintage sale, where I discover the aged wooden shutters I like are still there after two months and I purchase three of them for the headboard project in the spare room. Did you know that a full size bed is 54 inches wide? And the shutters were 18 inches wide each. Score - I got all 3 for $75. The man in my life says he can make these into a headboard. Yea him!

Shutters to make headboard

I come home after buying graduation cards. Really, we know like eight people who are graduating. Am I obligated to put money in these cards? Or can I do it only for the ones who are related to me?

Okay, we're cooking now. I measure, I iron, I cut, I pin. I sit down at the sewing machine, that I bought at Sears in about 1990, that is in fine condition for the kind of sewing I will ever do and I get a little sad. I start thinking of my mom, who died in 2003, and how she taught me to sew when I was a little girl. She made some of my clothes and I even have a couple of years of school pictures wearing clothes that she made me, like the faux-leather jumper from the 60's.

The home made leather jumper!

I don't know what grade that is, but it's unfortunate that she didn't put the same amount of effort into my hair that she did to the dress. I really look like a dork in that picture. But don't we all have at least one of those? Anyway, Agnes Russell Stedman, I thank you for teaching me to sew because now I have these awesome pillow covers for the spare bedroom. And because I love this material so much, I think I may buy some more and make roman shades for the windows in that room, but I have to think on that.

Love this material

Finished pillow

Envelope-style back

Clearly what turned out to be about a two hour sewing job took hours on an emotional roller coaster to complete. What do you think of my pillows? Here's a look at the material for the next project.

Next project!