Childhood, Nightgowns, and JCPenney’s

Posted by random olio

Over the weekend, I finished reading: “Still Points North” by Leigh Newman. A memoir about Newman’s Alaskan childhood. When I read this line, my mind wandered to my own childhood, my grandma, and JCPenney’s:

“Only then do I realize about her nightgown. It’s bunched around her chest, almost to her neck–a classic Nana bed garment; creamy JCPenney satin with a froth of French lace at the neck. She has drawers and drawers of them; they’re her trademark, along with the kimonos and martinis and hot-silver hair.” page 202

I do not know how many of you grew up with a JCPenney’s in your town. When I was young it was always exciting when the JCPenney’s Christmas catalog came in the mail, where you could go through pages and pages of toys and see what you might want to add to your Christmas list. Looking back though, I am not sure I ever really received anything from the catalog, but I guess it was always the dream of it.

What I remember most about JCPenney’s was my grandma and her nightgowns. She always wore a specific kind. It was silky soft, and usually was a subtle pink or blue. Nothing too exciting, but she always purchased them at JCPenney’s. It is funny as I look back how consistent my grandma was, how even, and routined she lived her life. I see a lot of that in me, and yet, I also like to try new things. Sometimes because of the adventure, and sometimes I do not have a choice. You know what it is like when your favorite t-shirt is no longer made or the company makes it but not out of the same fabric? So you have to move on and try something new. Sometimes the new version you find is actually better than what you were stuck to, and other times you never find a backfill that will ever compare.

My grandma would also wear these atrocious cotton robes. Although, she called them housecoats. They were hideous. I would never have wanted to be caught wearing one. The cotton felt harsh on your skin, but it was what she wanted. She would get up in the morning put the housecoat over her nightgown then put on her slippers and often wore that outfit for a good part of the day. Until she decided it was time to put clothes on, or because she was leaving the house.

Each time Chris and I would visit her, we would make sure to make a trip to JCPenney’s to pick up a new nightgown and housecoat for her. I knew I could never buy them anywhere else as she would not wear them. It would either sit in her drawer, or she would berate me to return it right away. Even when she was in the last few months and weeks of her life, Chris and I made the trip to JCPenney’s to see what we could find for her.

I have been to a JCPenney’s once or twice since my grandma died, but not for my usual grandma sleepwear purchase. Chris and I found that they have a great blinds section. Even so, anytime I see a JCPenney’s ad I think of my grandma and her nightgowns.

Bring On: “The Motherhood”

Posted by random olio

I know I have been sharing lots of videos lately, and in the world of blogging that is considered cheating. However, I am someone who cannot resist telling others about a good thing. If it makes me laugh, think differently, or learn something new about myself then it is worth sharing. This video made me laugh. A colleague at work shared it with me and I proceeded to laugh during the entire 3 minutes. It is a perfect little rap for moms. Since Mother’s Day is coming up, I thought I would brighten your Friday, because honoring mom’s should happen more than just on a Sunday in May.

The video was created by Fiat. I love that so many companies have decided to do social commentary on issues that have nothing to do with cars. That comment was partly sarcastic, because sometimes I find it annoying, and yet in the past few years there have been great ads that make us laugh and cry (thank you Jeep and Volkswagon).

Get out your mom jeans, bring your snot stained sack, get in your SUV, and wipe off those sticky hands.

Happy Friday, and enjoy your weekend!

Her story knocked me on my ass

Posted by random olio

There are days when I love when something knocks me on my ass. When I am challenged and I think wow, I need to hone my craft and be better. A story is a way I can be wowed. It can suck me in, make me forget what is on my To-Do list, make me want to stop everything to find out what happens next. The art of the story pushes me to learn more about myself and dig deep. A few weeks ago, I read a novel called “Barefoot Season” by Susan Mallery, about a war veteran who came home after serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.

She struggled to acclimate herself back into civilian life. In the end it was an abused dog that brought her back to normalcy. Having the need to care for an abused animal helped her heal her own wounds, both physical and emotional. Her story sucked me in. I wanted to read on. I wanted to know more. The author did an excellent job at making you forget that you had a bathroom to clean or laundry to do. It was compelling enough that I forget my surroundings and could not wait to find out how it would end. Yes, it was a chick lit book. Yes, it was cheesy, and yet I got sucked into her story, her pain, her success.

There are times when a book will knock you on your ass because it will transform the way that you view the world. You are altered. Changed. Your filter and view of life will no longer be the same. You look at your friends, family, and neighbors with a renewed lens on life. Whether from a book you read, or from the mouth of someone you know, stories take us outside of ourselves, and often put us in another’s shoes. Whether it comes from a novel or the raw realness of life, the art of story means we are never the same.

#storychangeslife

Murphy’s Oil helps get to the right brain

Posted by random olio

My desk is organized, I even wiped it down with Murphy’s Oil soap. My to-do list has been updated and organized. All paperwork has been filed. The laundry is folded and put away. The house is clean, and the bed has fresh, clean, and crisp sheets. Ah. A great way to start the week.

Is this the state of my world today? No. This is my ideal state whenever I want to do something creative. If I want to sit down for a long stint of writing, pull out my easel and paint, whatever the creative endeavor, I usually focus the best when I have cleared the clutter in the house, and in my thought. A clean slate that opens my mind, so I can dig in, create a mess, and focus solely on my project without distraction.

Why is it that a messy house, or a mind that feels full to the brim means my creative juices have a harder time flowing? Does the left side of my brain need to be filed away and put in order, so that I can use the right side of my brain? Maybe in the end I am exercising both the left and right side of my brain, so a win-win situation, right?

What tactics do you follow to allow the right side of your brain to be free and ready to go? Do you run, go out into the woods, or clean? I would love to hear from you.

Proof that you are loved.

Posted by random olio

I recently finished reading a book called: “Proof of Heaven” by Eben Alexander. It is an interesting book. I wanted to share one of the quotes from Alexander’s book that most resonated with me:

“You are loved. Those words are what I needed to hear as an orphan, as a child who’d been given away. But it’s also what every one of us in this materialistic age needs to hear as well, because in terms of who we really are, where we come from, and where we’re really going, we all feel (wrongly) like orphans.” Page 170

The author was adopted and at one point in his life had tried to find his birth parents, only to be told they were not interested in meeting him. He felt like an orphan all over again. Yet, in many ways whether we have lost our parents or not, if we do not feel loved, the result feels orphan-like. I had a professor in college that used to tell me: “You are loved, loving, lovable, needed, wanted, and useful. Right now.” She somehow always knew when I needed to hear those words. There were times in my life (college being one of them) when I did not hear the words “I love you” too often. Yet, those were the words I craved the most. We crave them when we need them the most. When you know you are loved, when you feel it, you do not question it. When you do not feel loved, you feel alone, on your own, and sometimes out in the wilderness.

It would be easy to say that you should know who you are, love yourself, and only then can you love others. That might be true, but before we can truly hold the comfort and confidence of who we are, we have to know, understand, and feel what love truly is, and what it feels like. Each individual understands what being loved feels like, some of us might have had the experience span our entire lifetime, and it might have been more intermittent for others, but we could not have continued living without understanding and knowing how being loved feels.

I often wonder if those committing evil acts today truly understood love? If they did, would they take a different road? If anger, misunderstanding, and revenge were replaced with love, the world would be a very different place.

What do you think?