News Trend The First Test|Actual

Well, that didn't take long. Three days in to my year-long shopping ban, I faced the first test of my resolve.

Spoilers: I did good. My commitment to the challenge won out over temptation, but I'm not ashamed to say I was sorely tested.

My saga began when my first born asked if I would like to meet her at Cost Plus World Market so she could show me some things she might want for her upcoming birthday.

Of course, I replied. The constraints of the shopping ban flickered in the back of my mind but I wasn't worried. This trip was all about her gifts, right? Surely I could stay true to that purpose.

By the time I caught up with her, my daughter's cart was half full of adorable items. Her goal is to ask for birthday gifts to zhuzh up her patio space, so she had gathered up a handful of adorable outdoor items: a seat cushion, some pillows, a floor mat, string lights, that sort of thing.

I love that sort of thing.

Suddenly I was intoxicated. I felt a sudden rush of warmth - adrenaline, I suppose - and a irrational desire to buy something - anything! - to spunk up my own outdoor space.

Oh, there was so much to choose from.

^Natural rattan candle lantern, made in Vietnam. Want.

^ Whoever invented solar powered string lights, I love you.

^ A long, unbroken wall runs along one side of my front patio, and this hanging would be perfect for adding some textural interest.

^ Orange, geometric, and metal. Three adorable characteristics for a side table.

^ I am a huge fan of outdoor mats. They feel so cozy on my always bare feet.

^ Those tassels are too much. In all the right ways.

^ This pattern strikes me as the perfect balance between busy and calming.

^ Outdoor candles. I am a fan.

^ This optical illusion-y pattern is one of my favorites.

^ I love geometric prints even more when they are paired with an organic, flowing pattern. Especially botanicals.

^ These wind chimes are insanely aesthetically simple, clean, and pure. I love them.

^ Another floor mat that would feel happy under my feet.

^ What a cool, sculptural chair. I would fight to be the first person to sit in it every day.

My conditioned reflexes quickly ruled out any purchase into three figures; I'm good at pulling back from even moderate extravagance. But the floor mats were $40; adorable wind chimes went for a mere $15. Surely a small item or two to freshen up my patio and celebrate the promise of a new summer would not violate my shopping ban. I ran my shopping rules over and over in my head, looking for a loophole.

All of this happened in less than a minute.

And then my true mind stepped in. You know, that mature mind, the soulful mind, that looks into my life and holds me to my best ideals and my truest self. That mind laughed at my silly attempts to negotiate away my own best interests and sabotage my grand design just two days into a year-long commitment.

I let go of my longings and turned my attention back to my daughter's cart full of birthday gifts.

I bought everything she had picked out, brought it home, and arranged it on the dining room table so the rest of the family could shop from this inventory. On the evening of her birthday, we will bring everything back to her place, wrapped in festive paper. She will open the gifts and we will all decorate her patio together.

And that will be much more fun than buying more things for me, me, me.

I'm glad I passed my first test.

* * * * *

Read more about my journey to mindful consumption:

Reading Inspiration

My Shopping Ban Rules

My Decluttering Rules

The First Test

Sometimes It's Okay To Hold On

Setting Myself Free

Armed And Dangerous

A Decluttering Update: Family Photos

A Shopping Ban Update: Three Months In

Keepers

News Trend Reading Insights|Actual

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn

Can you ever truly go home again? That's the question this second-rate journalist from a third-rate Chicago newspaper attempts to answer as she heads back to her podunk Missouri hometown to investigate a string of murders. Camille's broken family relationships, tendency to over-drink, obsession with cutting herself, and predilection for falling into bed with the wrong men notwithstanding, she eventually shaves away the distractions and gets at the truth.

* * * * *

Without giving away too much, let me say that one of the central themes of this story explores the human need to be needed, and what happens when that desire runs unchecked.

Interestingly, this question has been bubbling up in multiple places across my life this past week; I've stumbled across books, movies, and TV shows delving into different facets of this overwhelming need to be needed. Thankfully, the sources are all works of fiction, but they pose chilling and intriguing scenarios of how far adults - especially parents - will go to keep children in a state of prolonged dependency so that they, the grown-ups, can hold onto the feelings of connection and intimacy that come from caring for their vulnerable charges.

While our storytellers spin out dramatic tales of poisonings, deceptions, and murder, the truth is that most adults must face this same painful transition in our everyday lives as parents.

We bring helpless infants into this world, literally unable to even hold their own heads up, let alone fend for themselves. For the next two decades, we devote ourselves tirelessly to protecting them, providing for them, pouring our hearts out to give them whatever they need.

And then, in what feels like a snap of the fingers to us parents, our children grow up. They become capable, self-contained human beings and they no longer need us.

Oh, of course, they still love us and enjoy the security we represent. They like having us around and even come to appreciate the ways we cared for them back in the day when they needed us.

But once they are grown, our children don't need us any more. And as this book and the other stories like it caution us, we parents must never ever fool ourselves into thinking that they do.

So what are we to do, we humans who need to be needed, once our children no longer need us?

Here is the best answer I have worked out so far. With God's blessing, we set our children free, and we carry on with our own lives to see where else in the world we might be needed.

* * * * *

P.S. In case you're wondering, I did not buy this book. I borrowed it from my first-born which just goes to show that sometimes, I'm the one who needs her.

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Reading Afternoons

Reading Mornings

Reading Children's Books

Reading Memories

Reading Recommendations

Reading Inspiration

Reading Insights

Reading At The Pool

Reading About The Desert

Reading On Repeat

Reading Natalie Babbitt

Reading The Truth

Reading Books That Are Blue

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Reading Afternoons

Reading Mornings

Reading Children's Books

Reading Memories

Reading Recommendations

Reading Inspiration

Reading Insights

Reading At The Pool

Reading About The Desert

Reading On Repeat

Reading Natalie Babbit

Reading The Truth

Reading Books That Are Blue

Reading Mysteries

Reading About Walking

News Trend Discovering Tide Pools|Actual

If memory and the captions in my old school photo albums serve, it was 1995 that we first discovered the tide pools at Kalaloch.

^In 2011, luck was with us as our stay at Kalaloch coincided with some extreme minus tides. Hiking out across a vast expanse of soggy sand that would normally be buried under meters of Pacific blue isthe first step in the process of visiting the tide pools.

These puddles of magic and mystery appear as the tides recede to their lowest ebb - minus tides are the very best - and that happens when the moon is full. When conditions are just right - and heaven help me, the perfect time always seems to be in ridiculously early hours around dawn - the Pacific waters draw back and reveal vast stretches of sand peppered with rocks that are otherwise submerged. Living in and among these rocks and in the pools of water around and between them are a special assortment of plants and animals that truly take my breath away.

^Brownish grey rocks covered with barnacles and mussels dot the beach, and foggy mists drift in and out between them. I often wonder if I'm seeing a herd of sleeping elephants.

It was on an early August morning back in 1995 that my husband and I dragged our sleeping angels from their warm and cozy sleeping bags, stuffed them into their polar fleece jackets, filled them with hot cocoa, and marched them out onto the cold sand.

We brought our dog, Casey, too.

^ The waves crash far in the distance, and the rocky mounds are surrounded by still, silent pools of trapped water. It's here in the intertidal zone that some unique and clever animals live out their lives.

Knowing very little about Pacific Northwest tide pool phenomena, we were clever enough to follow along with the other groups of predawn gagglers. Everyone was headed to the low mounds of rocks easily visible about the sand where yesterday there had been nothing but the shimmering ocean.

^ When they are exposed to air, sea anemones look like blobs of green jelly, as shown in the bottom right corner of this shot. But when the waters close over them, they "bloom" into what look like showy green flowers. But they are actually animals.

The starfish - or sea stars, as they are scientifically named - were super easy to see. Purple and orange legs adeptly clung to the curiously bumpy rocks. But we with no guidebooks or experience with these creatures were at a loss to understand much more of what we were seeing.

^ Sea stars eat directly with their stomachs, located in the middle of their underside. They roll over expanses of barnacles and mussels, prying open the shells with their powerful feet, and putting their stomachs directly into the openings and thusly slurping up the otherwise difficult to reach but oh so juicy tidbits

And it just about that moment when a bright and shining 19- or 20-year-old popped out from behind one of the rocks and began to chat with us.

Correction. She lectured us. In the nicest possible way. Seems that she was a college student from the Georgia studying marine biology and these was her first visit to a proper Pacific Northwest beach. Beside herself with excitement and bursting with knowledge, she led us around for the next hour or so, teaching us all she knew about tide pools and the animals who live there.

Sea anemones

Mussels

Barnacles

Hermit crabs

And of course, our old friends, the sea stars.

 ^ Eventually, the tide turns and the waves come closer and closer, sending furies of water across the quiet pools and reminding us that our time is almost up.

I learned a lot that day.

My baby daughters did too, as our new friend encouraged them to look deeper, to .

Our teacher's passion for this beautiful, ever-changing environment was infectious, and I felt her fire taking hold in my daughters' hearts.

^ Eventually, too, the warmth of the rising sun evaporates the mists and if we are extremely lucky, the blue sky of a glorious summer day at the beach begins to burn through.

Now, this morning, sixteen years later, we return to the tide pools at Kalaloch. The chill morning air, the grey mists, the bouncy red dog at the end of the long leash - these things are all the same.

But my daughters have grown up quite a bit.

^ Oh sure, he's standing still now. But he has been running around like a wild man for the past ninety minutes and even the Tasmanian Devil needs to take a break now and then.

^ Our good boy, Casey, has gone to his reward but Ranger is here to romp through the smaller, uninhabited puddles and generally have a rollicking good time at the beach.

^Shimmering light flashes across the wet sand as we head back to our camp for a proper and well-deserved breakfast.

And after years of studying with their marvelous science teacher, it is now their brains that are bursting with knowledge, their voices that excitedly call out one exciting find after the next, their hearts that beat faster as they bend down at the pool's edge in the early morning mist.

^ Praises to the Pacific.

Visiting the tide pools is not something we can do every time we go to Kalaloch. Our treks to the rocks are controlled by the vagaries of the tides, Which makes these adventures all the more exciting and all the more magical.

Every time we visit the tide pools, it feels like we are discovering them all over again.

^ Ranger

* * * * *

My family and I go to Kalaloch a lot. Here are stories from our trips over the years:

2019

Wide Open Spaces

Whale Bones

Ways To Play

The World Of Packet Dinners

Windows

2018

Walking On Rialto Beach

2017

Gracie Goes To Kalaloch

2015

The Last Day Of My Summer Vacation

2014

With Joy And Wild Abandon

With Hope And Desperate Longing

With Peace And New Beginnings

2012

It's All About The Food

It's All About Playing On The Beach

It's All About The Sunsets

It's All About The Artistic Inspiration

It's All About The Memories

2011

Discovering Tide Pools

Discovering Sunsets

2010

Balanced Rocks

sometime before 2010

Golden Pup

News Trend Ready To Launch|Actual

Moondawg and four of her makers.

Tonight I met a rocket named Moondawg. A team of 150 students from University of Washington have built her over the last eight months, and put the last few nuts and bolts together just in time to carry her across the street and present her to a breathless and highly appreciative audience.

Next month, Moondawg will road trip down to Las Cruces, New Mexico, and blast off into the heavens via nitrous oxide and paraffin wax. With any luck, she will reach 30,000 feet with 1200 pounds of thrust, and then drift harmlessly back to earth. There will be other rockets there - well over a hundred of them - all competing in this exercise known as the Spaceport America Cup.

But wait, I hear you saying. This is all well and good, these student rocket scientists and their lofty goals. But what does any of it have to do with you?

Before Moondawg was unveiled, we met these ten leaders who told us a bit about their area of the project - structures, avionics, recovery, payload, propulsion, and so on - and the special challenges they faced. Then the cloth covering the rocket was dramatically pulled away, cameras burst forth from everyone's pocket, and a massive photo blitzkrieg began.

That's a very good question with a long answer. So let me explain.

Almost eleven years ago now, I met my first Malaysian friend. Playing Mob Wars on Facebook.

As the months passed, I came to know many people in his family and friendship circles.

He invited me to come to Malaysia and see his tropical homeland with my own two eyes. Eventually, I did. I met more of his friends and more of his family. Friendships deepened. The circles continued to expand.

Here's the entire team of 150 students - the Society for Advanced Rocket Propulsion or SARP - who launched this amazing project. You wanna find my friend, Aqil? Find the sideways W (for Washington) near the right end of the rocket. Aqil is standing in the first row behind the rocket, just to the right of the W, exactly where his work on the rocket is located. Proud papa.

In the spring of 2015, my friend gave me some interesting news. His cousin had just accepted an offer to attend University of Washington. In Seattle. A quick half-hour drive from my house. Would I like to reach out to him and perhaps meet with him once he arrived in the States?

And so yet another new friendship was born.

Aqil worked on the propulsion team, machining the chamber where the fuel will eventually be loaded. He's particularly proud of his work on the nozzle where blazing jets of fire will burn off as the rocket lifts off into space. Well, not actually space. But at least the troposphere.

Aqil and I became fast friends. A high-achieving aeronautical engineering major with a keen curiosity and a compassionate heart, it's been a joy to get to know him and welcome him into our family life. He's hung out with all the Streicher clan and dined at our table more times than I can remember. He brings his friends and roommates over. He also helps me cook.

And I've come to know his family - his brother has been to visit here in Seattle and come round to the house, and I was lucky enough to meet the rest of family when I visited them in Havana, Cuba, a few years back. I may or may not have carried a suitcase full of fried chicken back to Aqil at school straight from his mother's Cuban kitchen.

There are two components to the rocket fuel: a cylinder of paraffin wax filled with an inner core of nitrous oxide, As Moondawg is going through final preparations for launch, the fuel team will load that cylinder into this chamber, and Aqil will fit a seal and then the nozzle underneath, and make sure everything is locked and loaded for takeoff. Then, somebody will strike a match.

Just kidding. Pretty sure that's not how they do it.

Now I hate to be a downer, but I'll admit I've been feeling sad lately as Aqil's senior year quickly winds down. In just another month, he will graduate, and soon be blasting off to graduate school. Certainly, Aqil is meant for great things and will eventually be traveling all over the world if not orbiting the planet or streaking across the solar system on the great adventure of his life.

As much as I wish him well, I can't help feeling a bit sad to think that his time at UW is quickly coming to a close, and our fascinatingly different paths are about to diverge.

I suppose it was no surprise that everyone and their mom was crowding around the freshly unveiled rocket and trying to get photos of their student posing proudly in front. But was it really too much to ask for everyone to take five steps back while I captured the full length of Moondawg with Aqil at the far end all by himself?

But here's the good news. Aqil has accepted an offer to attend grad school at...University of Washington! He's staying here in Seattle for at least a few more years, and I am over the moon.

As the crowds slowly dwindled away from the rocket and off toward the refreshments, Aqil and his buddies got a chance to pose by their beloved work on the back end of the rocket. As they stood a bit stiffly, my husband called up to Aqil, "Point to the part you made!" Aqil's arm quickly shot up, and the photo was made.

 Even better, in the next instant, two of his buddies also obediently followed that instruction, leaving everyone in the room no doubt about where their rocket-building loyalties lie.

So here's to you, Moondawg; may you fly high and true in Las Cruces and make all your SARP stars proud.

And here's to you too, Aqil. I admire your passion and your drive and your quiet determination to make all your high-flying dreams come true. I am proud of you and I can't wait to see what you do next.

* * * * *

More stories about my friend, Aqil:

An Invitation To Dinner

Aqil's Chicken

Chicken Drumsticks

Ready To Launch

An All-American Dinner

Moondawg For The Win

News Trend My Tillamook Tweet|Actual

The other day, a new red notification popped up on the little paper airplane icon that is my Instagram direct message feed.

Sadly, though the notification was new, the message was almost two weeks old, but this was the first I had seen of it. Instagram, sometimes you are a little bit drunk.

But when I stopped pounding my fists and gnashing my teeth in frustration over the delay, and got over myself long enough to read the message, I found a crazy delightful surprise:

* * * * *

Tillamook, for you poor souls who live far beyond the Pacific Northwest, is an association of Oregon farmers who dish up about the best dairy products that this green earth has to offer. At this very moment, my fridge holds quite a treasure trove of Tillamook goods:

^ My Tillamook love affair began as soon as I moved to Seattle in 1986, and first discovered these beautiful products with the kooky name in my new grocery store's dairy case. For pretty much every day of the thirty-three years since then, I've kept a baby loaf of medium cheddar in my fridge. Other Tillamook flavors make their appearances as we crave them - mozzarella, Monterrey jack, Swiss. Lately a loaf of pepper jack has been keeping my cheddar company.

More than any other food, Tillamook medium cheddar cheese has been a constant in our family meals. My four daughters each began eating Tillamook as tiny babies, daintily picking carefully cut tidbits of cheese off their high chair tray and popping them into their mouths with utter delight. I've flipped endless grilled cheese sandwiches, grated countless heaps of the stuff for tacos, enchiladas, and nachos, blended uncountable handfuls of cheese into roux sauces for macaroni and cheese casseroles. Cheddar cheese makes everything taste better, and Tillamook takes cheese from good to great.

^ Salted for everyday use, unsalted for baking, surely this butter comes from Oregon's finest dairy cows munching on green grasses in the Willamette Valley.I'm not sure that I can taste the difference between Tillamook and other butter brands, but my loyalty is unquestioned.

^ I am a fiend for sour cream. Delicious as a topping on all dishes Mexican as well as fresh berries, this fresh clean taste improves many a homemade salad dressing and dipping sauce.

^ Ice cream is my favorite dessert and Tillamook is hands down my favorite all-purpose ice cream. Old-fashioned vanilla and vanilla bean are our go-tos for pairing with fruity pies and crisps; mint chocolate chip is the tried-and-true choice around here to accompany my daughters' favorite chocolate birthday cake. And for just plain weekend treat-yourself time, udderly chocolate is unbeatable.

* * * * *

So due to my long, luscious love affair with Tillamook, to receive a DM from the powers that be at my favorite creamery was beyond exciting for me.

But what's this about using some Tweet of mine in a video?

I racked my brain to dredge up some context.

Ohhhh, right

Back in 2014, as I was counting down the final days till I hopped a plane to Danang, Vietnam, to visit my globe-trotting third-born who lived there, she asked me for a special favor. Seems that she was planning to throw a taco party for some uninitiated Asian friends and wanted to tantalize their taste buds with the ultimate cheddar cheese.

She wondered if I might be willing to make room in my suitcase for a proper two-pound loaf of Tillamook's best.

Which I did. Without hesitation.

As I recall, this complicated my dealings with Customs. I declared my baby loaf of cheesy goodness, filled out an extra form or two, and talked my way past the investigating agent. The Tillamook cheddar was officially welcomed into Vietnam.

And then, on a steamy evening in a Danang high-rise, I grated that puppy down into a heap of delicious golden shreds and earned the immediate affection of a dozen hungry Vietnamese. Apparently, I also posted this Tweet:

A few weeks ago, some Tillamook marketing minion must have sifted through layers of dusty old Tweets and surfaced this five-year-old gem. Don't ask me to explain why said minion then reached out to me on Instagram rather than Twitter, because I don't get that at all. But the upshot of his or her efforts is that tonight I signed a sah release, allowing dear Tillamook to use my Tweet.

In exchange for the value of my wordsmithing, Tillamook has promised to send me a thank you gift.

All in all, I could not be more delighted about this surprising turn of events.

And I can't wait to see what they send me.

* * * * *

What started as an off-the-cuff tweet back in 2014 led to an interesting offer and a dairy industry fact-finding mission. Here's the full story:

My Tillamook Tweet

Checking Up On Tillamook

Thanks, Tillamook

News Trend Mother's Day Blues|Actual

"When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child." -Sophia Loren

"For when a child is born, the mother is also born again." -Gilbert Parker

These are flowers that I bought for myself, because I knew I would love some tulips. I was right.

Mother's Day makes me feel lonely.

Ever since my first official celebration in 1988, I've spent the day with a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach, a bittersweet ache for something I can't quite explain or describe or put my finger on.

In the early years, I supposed that the disconnect was due to the fact of my little ones' age. They were so young, too young to understand the meaning of the day. Adorable little kittens, they purred and pounced and played at my feet every day and why should one Sunday in May be any different than all the rest?

My fourth-born knew I would love this bouquet of allium and eucalyptus. She was right.

As time went on, my relationship with my own mom puzzled me. Hard feelings that I didn't understand came between us, and I guessed that wedge was the source of my loneliness on Mother's Day.

Then she got sick. Lewy Body Dementia stole our peace and certainly the thirteen years that my mom fought a losing battle against that terrible disease would explain my Mother's Day melancholy.

But those years are over now.

This is the third Mother's Day since my own mother went to heaven. I'm glad her battle is won and more than ever, I am at peace with her passing.

My daughters are full-grown adults now, and surely they grasp the significance of the celebration.

Nonetheless, again on this Mother's Day, I feel lonely.

And my first-born baked me a cake, a one-layer affair with a moderate dollop of frosting.

She thought I would like it. And she too was right.

And I wonder today, as I realize that all my old theories have flown out the window, that maybe the reason I feel alone on Mother's Day is because I am alone on Mother's Day.

Oh, of course, my husband and a goodly percentage of my daughters are with me.

But they are not mothers.

Not yet, anyway. Hopefully that day will come.

In all the years that I have been celebrating Mother's Day, my family and I have never once spent the day with another mom.

Not my mom. Nor my mother-in-law.

No aunties or grandmothers.

No sisters or sisters-in-law.

No friends or neighbors or traveling salesladies.

I have always been the only mother at the party.

And there is something special

something extraordinary

something priceless

something profoundly and deeply moving

about motherhood

that only another mother can understand.

And because I never once have had another mother sit across the table from me on Mother's Day, a mom whose eyes might meet mine over our cheeseburgers, a mom with whom I could share a special, silent moment of knowing what an immensely mysterious and unspeakable thing it is to be a mother,

I think it is quite understandable

that I feel lonely on Mother's Day.

* * * * *

Here are more stories about mothers and Mother's Day

Looking Up: Mother's Day Edition

What Truly Matters About Moms

Dear Mormon Mom

My Mother-In-Law

* * * * *

And to read more stories about my mom's journey through Lewy Body Dementia, go here.

News Trend Sometimes It's Okay To Hold On|Actual

"Hey, Mom. Next time you go to IKEA, can you grab me some of those white plant pots? You know, the ones with the three different patterns of lines in them. I'd like one of each."

Uh oh.

"Well, I'd be glad to do that. But they don't make that style any more."

Nooooo.

"But wait. I'm pretty sure I have some of them in my stash of extra planting pots. I'll check for you."

Score.

* * * * *

Today, I found these three now-obsolete IKEA planting pots, one of each design, exactly as my first born requested. Granted, they needed a good scrubbing up, but nothing that a few minutes of elbow grease couldn't fix. Now these gleaming rascals are ready to take on new life and add some sparkle to my daughter's home.

I'm glad I found them.

But honestly, if I had ruthlessly decluttered my planting supplies, I would have tossed them long ago. It's been at least a few years since I put them to active duty, and by most any self-respecting minimalist's standards, that's far too long to have stuff sitting around collecting dust.

I'm still sticking to my original plan to declutter hard in my garage. But I must admit that maybe there's something to be said for hanging on to things now and then, just in case a daughter comes calling.

* * * * *

Read more about my journey to mindful consumption:

Reading Inspiration

My Shopping Ban Rules

My Decluttering Rules

The First Test

Sometimes It's Okay To Hold On

Setting Myself Free

Armed And Dangerous

A Decluttering Update: Family Photos

A Shopping Ban Update: Three Months In

Keepers