Okay--some backstory--
When I got all fired up three years (?!?) ago and started this blog, I didn't realize how blog names worked. I gave it a terrible name! (tosdkrn...? what does that mean anyway? I mean, I know!--but it doesn't exactly roll off the tongue or anything.....{btw: it means The Other Side Dianne Kathryn Reese Nelson}).......
Anyway... I set up a NEW blog, with a much easier url: dianneknelson.blogspot.com. I'm thinking of switching to that url as my new "home" on the 'net. I'm almost at my 200th post, and my 3 year anniversary is coming up, so it's an appropriate time to switch things around if I am going to do so. But that means all of you loyal readers would have to change their bookmarks (assuming you've bookmarked my blog--for the sake of my self-esteem/ego, I'm going to assume you have...) and I don't want to frustrate anyone.
Leave a comment and let me know what you think!
And as an aside---if you go to Ali's blog and Amber's blog, you'll see some great projects! (got to spread around the inspiration!)
But seriously, leave me a comment and let me know what you think....
Bye!
Showing posts with label thoughts on life--The Other Side. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts on life--The Other Side. Show all posts
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
Baby, It's Cold Outside
Let me start off by saying that if you live in say, Minnesota, our Oregon idea of cold will make you snicker behind my back....
But for me, it's COLD! We've been averaging high teens to low twenties at night, with the highs in the mid-to-high thirties. That's pretty dang cold for the Willamette Valley! At least it's bright
and sunny outside. And the "normal" did have a chance to subside a bit before everything froze. And if that wasn't enough to brighten your spirits, we have these:
Nothing really brightens the spirit like the sign of Daffodils coming back. That's truly something I look forward too every year. It really makes my day. I feel like I can suffer through the gray rainy days, the "normal" flooding, and all the cold because I know that daffodils are coming.
But for me, it's COLD! We've been averaging high teens to low twenties at night, with the highs in the mid-to-high thirties. That's pretty dang cold for the Willamette Valley! At least it's bright
and sunny outside. And the "normal" did have a chance to subside a bit before everything froze. And if that wasn't enough to brighten your spirits, we have these:
Nothing really brightens the spirit like the sign of Daffodils coming back. That's truly something I look forward too every year. It really makes my day. I feel like I can suffer through the gray rainy days, the "normal" flooding, and all the cold because I know that daffodils are coming. And that's the other side.
Monday, November 26, 2007
a few thoughts on friendship...
The prompt for today on 2peas is to blog about your thoughts on friendship. This struck a chord for me.
What I want most from a friendship would best be described as equality and balance, tempered with loyalty. Meaning that you give as good as you get--that you give as much as you take from me. And you speak with me honestly and openly as I will speak with you--without judgement, and that you keep my secrets as well as I keep yours. This hasn't always happened for me; I value it so much more when I find it.
That's really all I have off the top of my head. Seems simple enough---it's basically the "golden rule." 'Nuff said.
Not quite the other side, but close enough.
What I want most from a friendship would best be described as equality and balance, tempered with loyalty. Meaning that you give as good as you get--that you give as much as you take from me. And you speak with me honestly and openly as I will speak with you--without judgement, and that you keep my secrets as well as I keep yours. This hasn't always happened for me; I value it so much more when I find it.
That's really all I have off the top of my head. Seems simple enough---it's basically the "golden rule." 'Nuff said.
Not quite the other side, but close enough.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Let's Create a Personal Day!
Wouldn't it be great if we could have the power to add another day to the week? Or just stop the world around us long enough to get a little more caught up? I'm so wishing I had a day just for me. A day where I didn't have to meet anyone's deadlines but my own. That way, I'd have clean clothes in my closet (instead of in stinky piles around our family office) and I'd be caught up in projects for my classes at Stampin'Cat. (How nice would THAT be? Instead of trying to do my projects in a semi-lit classroom during "rest time", racing to finish it before my class on Saturday, I'd just turn in a finished sample a month before the class is scheduled. Ah, what quiet bliss!)
Or, instead of rushing around trying to get caught up, I'd just sleep all day....and then I'd sleep some more.
And that's the other side.
Or, instead of rushing around trying to get caught up, I'd just sleep all day....and then I'd sleep some more.
And that's the other side.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Over The River...
I've been dreaming of my Grandmother's house at night. I know that house very well. I know where my father's teenage Chuck Taylor footprint on the sheetrock is hiding under wood paneling, left from when he and my uncle were building the house with my Grandfather. I know the patchwork pattern of the tile my Grandfather used in the downstairs basement shower that became my bathroom shower when I attended Oregon State. I know the heating ductwork where he put his "Hello My Name Is" nametags from the various events he attended as a chemistry professor for Oregon State. I added my own to the collection. I know which rooms my Dad slept in as a teenager. I know the blue room upstairs with its light blue paneling and light blue shag carpet; that was my Aunt Lila's room. I thought it was the most beautiful room in the world when I was a child. I know where Grandma kept her tools. I know the Gardening room, the Wood room, the Bike Room (where I hung my bike on the same bike pulley sysem my Grandfather used to hang his bike--the same bike he once got a speeding ticket on as he raced across the Oregon State Campus), and the tool benches in the garage--left pretty much as my Grandfather left them when he lost his lymphoma battle when I was sixteen.
I'm seeing different parts of the house in my dream. The room divider in the living room where my Grandma stored knickknacks. The drawer that housed all of her Pyrex. The drawer that housed all of the cookie sheets and cake pans. Every thing in the kitchen was custom made by my grandfather to her specifications. I see the knife slots for each individual knife, the sections in the drawers for kitchen utensils separated by size and function, the drawers for her linens and tablecloths, the cupboard with the cookie jar and the corny poster that said "My Grandma is the best by far, for she has got a Cookie Jar!" (I loved that poster!) on the inside of the door, the under cabinet fluorescent lights. I see the double closet that still held many of my Grandfather's clothes and also his filing cabinets in what became the boys room. I see the storeroom under the stairs that held the old games and toys my brother and sisters and cousins played when we came to visit, the shelves with my Grandfather's photo developing chemicals, all labeled neatly and out of reach of most children, the cheerleader megaphone he was gifted with at some point in his collegiate teaching career. And even though they were long gone after his death, I remember the shelves where his duck hunting buoys stood in neat rows. I remember the smell of water and the rubber that hung in the air around them. I remember his little office where he refilled his shotgun casings. I remember that was something scary to me as a child, and I didn't stay in that room for long---just long enough to take a butterscotch candy from the dish on his desk. I liked to think he kept them there just for me.
I remember my Grandmother's sewing closet. I remember the beautiful draperies she made for each room of the house. I remember that I thought there was nothing she couldn't make. I now have one of her ironing boards. I've had it for years now. It's heavy and awkward and most current ironing board covers don't really fit it; it's heavy plywood with heavy metal legs. The original cover had a blanket material as it's padding. Sometimes think a more modern board would be better for my needs, but then I remember that her name is written on the board beneath the cover, so it would be set aside for her at the store she bought it at originally. When I use that ironing board, I feel connected to her. Connected to my past.
We moved a lot during my childhood. My father was in the service, and moving often is a part of that life. My grandmother's address was on our luggage as our permanent address, just in case we were ever sepearated from it. That started when we moved to Germany in 1974. I moved into her house in 1989. I lived there until I got married in 1992 (interrupted only by a VERY brief stint sharing an apartment with a friend). During that time I connected with my Grandmother more than anyone else in my family did. This house held my roots and my history; her house was my roots in a very real way. Everywhere I went in that house, I was surrounded by a part of my history; it was one of those houses where nothing every really changed. I like to pretend that it's still a part of my family, even though it was sold per the instructions left by my Grandfather's trust.
We've lived in our house in Albany for four-and-a-half years now. This is the longest period in my entire life where I had the same address. In the 14 and a half years we've been married, we've had 10 different street addresses. That's a lot of moving! In fact, I think I still have at least one box in the garage that was packed a couple of moves ago. (I'm working through them--I just did a couple of boxes last week). Fortunately, my children have settled in here easily. They are planting the kinds of roots I never was able to. I marvel at that sometimes--and I'm grateful that they are building good friendships and relationships--that they are well-known at their elementary school and well-liked by their teachers. It's good for me too--I'm building my own friendships and relationships. We are all making our own roots.
Where are your roots? Do you have friends that date back to your kindergarten years? Or are you having the chance to build your own roots today. Whether we move all over or stay in the same places, we all have the chance to "bloom where we are planted" (to paraphrase Mary Englebreit). We can make our own roots or we can find a way to be content without them. Either way, I'm grateful for the dreams of my grandmother's house. I was happy there. I like remembering all the bits and pieces that make up my connections and my roots. And when I'm exasperating my children by wanting things just so--like my Grandmother did (I used to have to vacuum the carpet in straight lines--and then spend the rest of the week walking around the edges of the room so that I didn't mess up those lines) I remember that I come by my quirks honestly. I have connections to my roots.
Here's to connections!
And that's the other side.
I'm seeing different parts of the house in my dream. The room divider in the living room where my Grandma stored knickknacks. The drawer that housed all of her Pyrex. The drawer that housed all of the cookie sheets and cake pans. Every thing in the kitchen was custom made by my grandfather to her specifications. I see the knife slots for each individual knife, the sections in the drawers for kitchen utensils separated by size and function, the drawers for her linens and tablecloths, the cupboard with the cookie jar and the corny poster that said "My Grandma is the best by far, for she has got a Cookie Jar!" (I loved that poster!) on the inside of the door, the under cabinet fluorescent lights. I see the double closet that still held many of my Grandfather's clothes and also his filing cabinets in what became the boys room. I see the storeroom under the stairs that held the old games and toys my brother and sisters and cousins played when we came to visit, the shelves with my Grandfather's photo developing chemicals, all labeled neatly and out of reach of most children, the cheerleader megaphone he was gifted with at some point in his collegiate teaching career. And even though they were long gone after his death, I remember the shelves where his duck hunting buoys stood in neat rows. I remember the smell of water and the rubber that hung in the air around them. I remember his little office where he refilled his shotgun casings. I remember that was something scary to me as a child, and I didn't stay in that room for long---just long enough to take a butterscotch candy from the dish on his desk. I liked to think he kept them there just for me.
I remember my Grandmother's sewing closet. I remember the beautiful draperies she made for each room of the house. I remember that I thought there was nothing she couldn't make. I now have one of her ironing boards. I've had it for years now. It's heavy and awkward and most current ironing board covers don't really fit it; it's heavy plywood with heavy metal legs. The original cover had a blanket material as it's padding. Sometimes think a more modern board would be better for my needs, but then I remember that her name is written on the board beneath the cover, so it would be set aside for her at the store she bought it at originally. When I use that ironing board, I feel connected to her. Connected to my past.
We moved a lot during my childhood. My father was in the service, and moving often is a part of that life. My grandmother's address was on our luggage as our permanent address, just in case we were ever sepearated from it. That started when we moved to Germany in 1974. I moved into her house in 1989. I lived there until I got married in 1992 (interrupted only by a VERY brief stint sharing an apartment with a friend). During that time I connected with my Grandmother more than anyone else in my family did. This house held my roots and my history; her house was my roots in a very real way. Everywhere I went in that house, I was surrounded by a part of my history; it was one of those houses where nothing every really changed. I like to pretend that it's still a part of my family, even though it was sold per the instructions left by my Grandfather's trust.
We've lived in our house in Albany for four-and-a-half years now. This is the longest period in my entire life where I had the same address. In the 14 and a half years we've been married, we've had 10 different street addresses. That's a lot of moving! In fact, I think I still have at least one box in the garage that was packed a couple of moves ago. (I'm working through them--I just did a couple of boxes last week). Fortunately, my children have settled in here easily. They are planting the kinds of roots I never was able to. I marvel at that sometimes--and I'm grateful that they are building good friendships and relationships--that they are well-known at their elementary school and well-liked by their teachers. It's good for me too--I'm building my own friendships and relationships. We are all making our own roots.
Where are your roots? Do you have friends that date back to your kindergarten years? Or are you having the chance to build your own roots today. Whether we move all over or stay in the same places, we all have the chance to "bloom where we are planted" (to paraphrase Mary Englebreit). We can make our own roots or we can find a way to be content without them. Either way, I'm grateful for the dreams of my grandmother's house. I was happy there. I like remembering all the bits and pieces that make up my connections and my roots. And when I'm exasperating my children by wanting things just so--like my Grandmother did (I used to have to vacuum the carpet in straight lines--and then spend the rest of the week walking around the edges of the room so that I didn't mess up those lines) I remember that I come by my quirks honestly. I have connections to my roots.
Here's to connections!
And that's the other side.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
I'm just going to quit making promises....
Every time I talk about blogging more, and making the promise that I will blog more, I don't. So I'm going to quit making promises.
That business of my Dad's I referred to? It was a job interview. He got the job. I found out on Thursday last week. Spent a good part of Thursday and Friday looking at rental opportunities for my parents. Sunday got the assignment (which I gladfully took--wait--is "gladfully even a word? It is now!) to go check out the 2 houses they'd narrowed their search to. These houses are in Lebanon, OR, about a half hour away from where I live. So Monday I went to take pictures. Called 'em up and made my suggestion on which was the "better" house. (both houses are new, so really, it's all subjective). Monday night they asked for more pictures of the house that I suggested. I said gladfully--Sure! Tuesday morning I found out that my best friend dislocated her knee at the beginning of her exercise class and had to be taken to the hospital by ambulance Monday night. Could I watch her kids when she found out when her MRI appointment was? Sure! I said (still pretty gladfully, I mean, she is my best friend). Right after I drove through a raging hailstorm and rainstorm on I-5 to get to the house (which is exactly 30 minutes from my house) I get the call that her appointment was in 45 minutes. Um, Gulp! I rush in the house, take 126 pictures in about 15 minutes, realize that I'm not going to make it back in time to pick up the kids at my gf's house, and call to find out where I can get the kids. Make plans to meet them at the hospital. FLY down the freeway back to Albany, and arrive at the hospital just as Grandma is parking the car. GF is in hospital, kids are still in car. Whew! I made it! I keep them for the next 6 hours. Gladfully.
I'm also busy with church meetings this week. Last night was my quarterly Women's group meeting. Tonight is a rehearsal for a special musical presentation I'm singing at. Tomorrow is a meeting for the yearly girls camp (I'm doing the Crafts w/another girlfriend). While I enjoy these activities, and believe in serving my church, I'm doing these things not so gladfully. I'm also teaching at Stampin' Cat this Saturday, which means I need to have my kits packed and ready, a spiffy color handout w/instructions and pictures (this is something I like to do), AND have the projects/samples done for NEXT month's classes. I also have to get my "lecture" (this is for my year-long Paper School class) done. Plus I'm late for two swaps. This is why I don't often swap. Sunday I go out of town for my yearly scrapbook retreat at Seaside, Oregon. I LOVE this retreat, and I LOVE the gals I go with. I really want to be organized though, and not haul all my scrapcrap w/me. The last time I literally took just about everything I own, 'cause I didn't know what I was going to work on, and wanted to have options. I only made one mini-album for my mom. I used something like 6 pieces of patterned paper, and a set of stamps. And for that I hauled EVERYTHING? Not this time. So that means along w/the service to my parents (gladfully done), service to my gf (also gladfully done), service to my church (mostly gladfully done, but less than the other), planning and executing my class, samples, and handouts (love this, I mean, after all it's my job and I'm good at it. It just ALWAYS takes more time than I think it will), I have to go through my pictures and plan what I will actually use for my Sunday/Monday and Tuesday retreats. If I didn't REALLY want to scrap, I'd just take a couple of books and plan to do nothing! (quite gladfully!, too, I might add). And I didn't even mention the fact that I'm on "Baby Watch" for some fabulously dear friends having their first baby. They've invited me to the delivery room to be Mom support. (Her due date was last sunday, so it could be any day now.) I LOVE that. That I'll do VERY gladfully!
Ah well, I'm sure my busy life isn't much different from anyone else's busy life. Just feels like a lot right now.
So I'll keep plugging away. Gladfully. And then it'll be next week, and something else will start the whole busy process again. 'Cause that's how it goes. It just does. And the best thing we can do is try our best to do the whole thing gladfully. As my Mom likes to say, "When you change your attitude, you change your circumstance."
And that's the other side
That business of my Dad's I referred to? It was a job interview. He got the job. I found out on Thursday last week. Spent a good part of Thursday and Friday looking at rental opportunities for my parents. Sunday got the assignment (which I gladfully took--wait--is "gladfully even a word? It is now!) to go check out the 2 houses they'd narrowed their search to. These houses are in Lebanon, OR, about a half hour away from where I live. So Monday I went to take pictures. Called 'em up and made my suggestion on which was the "better" house. (both houses are new, so really, it's all subjective). Monday night they asked for more pictures of the house that I suggested. I said gladfully--Sure! Tuesday morning I found out that my best friend dislocated her knee at the beginning of her exercise class and had to be taken to the hospital by ambulance Monday night. Could I watch her kids when she found out when her MRI appointment was? Sure! I said (still pretty gladfully, I mean, she is my best friend). Right after I drove through a raging hailstorm and rainstorm on I-5 to get to the house (which is exactly 30 minutes from my house) I get the call that her appointment was in 45 minutes. Um, Gulp! I rush in the house, take 126 pictures in about 15 minutes, realize that I'm not going to make it back in time to pick up the kids at my gf's house, and call to find out where I can get the kids. Make plans to meet them at the hospital. FLY down the freeway back to Albany, and arrive at the hospital just as Grandma is parking the car. GF is in hospital, kids are still in car. Whew! I made it! I keep them for the next 6 hours. Gladfully.
I'm also busy with church meetings this week. Last night was my quarterly Women's group meeting. Tonight is a rehearsal for a special musical presentation I'm singing at. Tomorrow is a meeting for the yearly girls camp (I'm doing the Crafts w/another girlfriend). While I enjoy these activities, and believe in serving my church, I'm doing these things not so gladfully. I'm also teaching at Stampin' Cat this Saturday, which means I need to have my kits packed and ready, a spiffy color handout w/instructions and pictures (this is something I like to do), AND have the projects/samples done for NEXT month's classes. I also have to get my "lecture" (this is for my year-long Paper School class) done. Plus I'm late for two swaps. This is why I don't often swap. Sunday I go out of town for my yearly scrapbook retreat at Seaside, Oregon. I LOVE this retreat, and I LOVE the gals I go with. I really want to be organized though, and not haul all my scrapcrap w/me. The last time I literally took just about everything I own, 'cause I didn't know what I was going to work on, and wanted to have options. I only made one mini-album for my mom. I used something like 6 pieces of patterned paper, and a set of stamps. And for that I hauled EVERYTHING? Not this time. So that means along w/the service to my parents (gladfully done), service to my gf (also gladfully done), service to my church (mostly gladfully done, but less than the other), planning and executing my class, samples, and handouts (love this, I mean, after all it's my job and I'm good at it. It just ALWAYS takes more time than I think it will), I have to go through my pictures and plan what I will actually use for my Sunday/Monday and Tuesday retreats. If I didn't REALLY want to scrap, I'd just take a couple of books and plan to do nothing! (quite gladfully!, too, I might add). And I didn't even mention the fact that I'm on "Baby Watch" for some fabulously dear friends having their first baby. They've invited me to the delivery room to be Mom support. (Her due date was last sunday, so it could be any day now.) I LOVE that. That I'll do VERY gladfully!
Ah well, I'm sure my busy life isn't much different from anyone else's busy life. Just feels like a lot right now.
So I'll keep plugging away. Gladfully. And then it'll be next week, and something else will start the whole busy process again. 'Cause that's how it goes. It just does. And the best thing we can do is try our best to do the whole thing gladfully. As my Mom likes to say, "When you change your attitude, you change your circumstance."
And that's the other side
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