Things That Make Me Happy #19

The magazine in the photo above, the August 1980 issue of Seventeen magazine, is currently winging its way to me – an early birthday present to myself that will most likely arrive late. If I could have found them, I would have also treated myself to the August ’77, ’78, and ’79 issues. Does this seem odd to you? Maybe it is, but I am so nostalgic for the early fashion guidance Seventeen gave me. I remember looking at issues of the magazine in our local library when I was no older than 12, thinking “I can’t wait to be seventeen years old!” It seemed so far in the future at the time.

When I was fourteen, I started buying my own issues of the magazine, and in early July I would start to eagerly anticipate the release of the August issue. The theme of the August issue was, of course, back to school, and the issue itself was 2-3 times thicker than a normal issue. Of course the bulk of that was extra advertisements, but I didn’t care – I loved the ads as much as the articles. I still remember the joy I felt when the August issue was finally at our local pharmacy.

There is currently a trend among adherents to a fashion sensibility called “slow fashion” to create and dress within the limits of a “capsule wardrobe.” The idea is to own fewer, higher quality, sustainably-sourced items of clothing. What you do buy, however, must work with everything else in your wardrobe, giving you many outfit options within the capsule. As trendy as the capsule wardrobe is, it is certainly nothing new. When I discussed the concept with my mother, she informed me that she created her own “capsule wardrobe” back in 1946 as a high school student who wanted to look as good as she could within a nearly non-existent budget. She tells me with humor and a certain amount of pride that a classmate told her that she was going to vote for her as “best dressed.” “If only she knew how few clothes I owned!” That’s the power of a capsule wardrobe – everything is chosen with care, and so every outfit looks not so much thrown together as curated.

Seventeen’s back-to-school issue always had a feature fashion spread that celebrated the concept of the capsule wardrobe (although they didn’t refer to it as such). I remember one issue had an oversized, fold-out calendar showing how you could have a unique outfit for each day of September using only 10 basic pieces of clothing. I was enthralled. We weren’t as poor as my mother had been, but money was not plentiful, and the idea that I could look so pulled-together without a major outlay of money was very appealing.

I found the following photos from the August 1979 issue online:

Yes, that’s a young Phoebe Cates, of “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” and “Gremlins” fame (and who has also been married to Kevin Kline for many years). And yes, I do realize that there are many more than ten items of clothing featured here. But it’s the inspiration more than the reality of the spread that worked for me, and still works for me (and after all, isn’t that what all fashion spreads are all about – inspiration rather than literal dictate). Forty-one years later (yikes!) this particular fashion spread still inspires me.

Why do clothes have the ability to make me/us happy? My answer, speaking only for myself, could probably stretch across several blog posts. I do know that my nostalgia for Seventeen magazines from 1977-1980 have nothing to do with my memories of my life at the time. It has more to do with my dreams from that time – dreams of who I wanted to be, of what I wanted the future to hold for me.

I still have dreams – I still feel like my life is a work-in-progress. These days I rely mostly on my Pinterest boards to help me envision what type of present and future I’d like to create for myself – from poetry to inspirational quotes to yes, fashion – past and present.

And so, just like the teenage Michelle from forty years ago, I can’t wait for my August issue of Seventeen to arrive.

I hope you have a restful weekend, friends!

Love,

Michelle xoxo

Hello

Hi, friends. It’s been rather wet here lately, and the mushrooms are popping up all over. The ones shown here are just the ones seen on my morning walks in the neighborhood. I look forward to seeing what types of fungi I can see in our neighborhood park – perhaps I’ll go for a walk Saturday morning before the rest of the humans are out.

The mornings have been cooler these last few days. The air has that “back to school” feeling, and indeed we will be moving Sam into his apartment a week from Saturday. I’m excited for him – although his last two dorm rooms have essentially been apartments, this is his first “real” apartment with its attendant responsibilities (getting renter’s insurance, setting up a time for the internet to be connected, etc). I’m helping him, but also letting him negotiate the phone calls and appointments himself. I’ll miss him when he goes, but I also know that it’s healthier for both of us for him to be off on his own, making his own way in the world again.

I have a birthday coming up next week – 57! I’ve never been one to be coy about my age, and since my cancer diagnosis at age 50 I am positively thrilled when I can say with each birthday, “I made it to 51 (52,53, etc)! Each birthday is a triumph, and I am so grateful to be able to experience the age that I am.

I’m writing this on my lunch hour and must go back to work in a moment, but I wanted to share my photos and a little catch-up with you. Take care, dear ones.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

In Praise of the Coffee Nap

Ever since the coronavirus lockdowns started, I have not only been having very vivid dreams but I’ve also been having blessedly uninterrupted 7-8 hour stretches of sleep each night. As most 50-something-plus women (and men) will tell you, this is fairly unusual at our age. It seems that from about 2-3 years before menopause onward it has been very common for my friends and I to wake up at 3-ish o’clock in the morning and not be able to go back to sleep. So when I started to sleep soundly through the entire night, I counted it as one of the silver linings of this dismal time. 

For some reason last night was an exception. Having gone to sleep at my usual 10:00, I woke up at 2am for no particular reason and could not get back to sleep. I listened to an audiobook I have on loan from the library for about an hour and then felt sufficiently sleepy to get back to sleep. I usually wake before my 6:30 alarm, but not this morning. I turned the alarm off, slept until 7 and then forced myself out of bed for my morning walk with Chris.

I dragged myself through the morning, and by 11:30 I was feeling very sleepy indeed. That’s when I remembered reading about coffee naps! 

What is a coffee nap, you ask? First, a little background (and here’s an excellent article for further reading). Our bodies produce a chemical called adenosine, which makes us sleepy. When we fall asleep, adenosine levels drop. That’s why a nap can be very refreshing. Now comes the coffee part. Caffeine actually competes with the adenosine receptors in your brain. The level of adenosine in your bloodstream stays the same, but less of it gets to your brain – hence why caffeine helps keep you awake.

In a coffee nap, the caffeine and the nap have a synergistic affect on your level of sleepiness. Studies have shown that the combination of caffeine + nap has a more favorable impact than either taken alone. 

So, how does it work? Since caffeine takes 20 minutes to act on the body what you have to do is drink a cup of coffee fairly quickly (I added enough milk to my coffee so that I could chug instead of sip it) and then take a nap between 15-20 minutes long. Any longer than 20 minutes and you enter a deeper phase of sleep that will be harder to come out of and leave you groggy. The nap lowers the level of adenosine in your bloodstream, and then the caffeine competes with whatever adenosine is left. It’s such an elegant solution, it just might rise to the level of things-that-make-me-happy. I felt completely transformed by my coffee nap from sleepy head to buzzing with energy. I just knew I had to spread the good news of coffee naps far and wide. 

I hope your week is going well!

Love,

Michelle xoxo

COVID Fatigue

If you google the words “Covid Fatigue” there are two different types of search returns. One talks about the symptom of fatigue as it relates to actually contracting the COVID-19 virus. The other type of search return involves the mental/emotional/spiritual fatigue that results from months of isolation, uncertainty, and anxiety – addressed in this article from UC Davis.

I am so fatigued, friends. Friday is usually my “Things That Make Me Happy” post, and while I do think that forcing myself to reflect on things that make me happy is a valuable exercise and that it can in itself be a mood lifter, I have to admit that I just wasn’t feeling it this week. I feel like I’ve hit heartbreak hill two miles into the marathon.

I’m working from home still, and very grateful for the safety that provides me, but I miss being out in the world as just me – the solitary ride (albeit only 6 minutes long) to and from work, the banter with colleagues, my lovely, tiny cubicle. 

I miss the different environments I experienced in the old world order – popping into various shops on my way home from work, going to my sunset-viewing park, sitting in the coffee shop or at the bar of our date-night restaurant, taking my time in the fiction stacks of the library. 

And, it must be said – I love my family so dearly, but there is such a thing as too much togetherness. Remember that old ad, “Calgon, take me away”? And it’s not just me – I know they feel the same way about the situation.

I completely understand the feelings that lead to people deciding, “F*&k it, I’m going to go out and have fun – let the chips fall where they may.” I get it, because most of the time these days I feel so hemmed in I just want to scream. Literally. But I’ve got damned Jiminy Cricket sitting on my shoulder reminding me that giving up ensures the virus wins. And that means people die. And that’s not acceptable.

Of course I recognize that I’m ridiculously privileged – I’m sure the person who checks me through at the grocery store would love to experience the “isolation” of working from their dining room table. I know that the person who just lost a family member to covid would give anything to be annoyed by them just one more time. And that person who has been restricted for the last 3 weeks to a hospital bed wouldn’t turn up their nose at the opportunity to walk around their neighborhood for the millionth time.

I know that I will get my second wind, and when necessary I will get my third, and fourth, wind. And so this post feels a bit whine-y and poor-me-ish. So why write it? Because I know that many of you are feeling the same way, and I want to let you know that you’re not alone. And also I want to share with you, without getting too nitty-gritty, that finding that weekly thing-that-makes-me-happy is sometimes a struggle. Sometimes it’s a way to remind myself that there are things that make me happy.

So, I’m sending out virtual hugs to you all today. Be kind to yourselves and those around you. This is hard for everyone.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

Things That Make Me Happy #18

The photos I’m posting today are nearly identical to photos I posted about a month ago, and for good reason – it’s a scene that plays out over and over again during the summer months. The elements are:

  • an old quilt that I love (the blue and yellow color scheme is so cheerful, isn’t it?)
  • a book (this time I had a perennial favorite, Simple Abundance by Sarah Ban Breathnach, and a fun new book, Sourdough by Robin Sloan)
  • On this particular day I also brought along my bullet journal, my gratitude journal, and some fun washi tape (I love love love washi tape)
  • an icy drink (I’m really into iced coffee this summer, but ginger ale in a wine glass or poured into a tall glass that has been filled to the brim with ice first is also a favorite)
  • dappled sun filtered through the leaves of my favorite tree
  • a pillow, in case I want to take a nap

I’m a homebody. When coworkers tell me about their weekends of going here, there, and everywhere, it sounds nice, but honestly it also sounds exhausting. I think I’m a classic introvert – my batteries are recharged by staying close to home, surrounding myself with simple comforts, and engaging in quiet pursuits.

I hope you have a wonderful weekend, friends.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

Hair

“Ask a woman about her hair, and she just might tell you the story of her life.” – Elizabeth Benedict

As you can probably tell from the photo above, I haven’t been to my hair stylist since March 10. Before the advent of the coronavirus I had no intention, at least in the forseeable future, of going back to my natural hair color. In the pre-covid days I would actually get sort of embarrassed in the last days leading up to my stylist appointment. I couldn’t wait to cover up the unsightly stripe of steel gray that was invading my light brown coif like weeds in a pristine lawn. But over the last four months the idea of ditching the $100-every-seven-weeks habit of the past several years has grown on me. 

Women have such a complicated relationship with their hair – too curly, too straight, too thin, too thick, frizzy, limp, wrong color. It seems rare to meet a woman who is completely happy with her hair. I know my own relationship with my hair has had its ups and downs. 

From birth to about 12 years old I never thought about my hair at all. Then puberty came and my hair became curly, so of course I had to do everything I could over the next several decades to try to (mostly unsuccessfully) blow dry the curls into submission. At the ripe old age of about 46 I finally decided to embrace the curls. My hair color at this time was a natural light brown, and I would sometimes have my stylist add a few highlights to it. I was really rocking the curly hair there for a while, right up until I found out that I would lose it all to chemotherapy. 

In order to ease the transition to baldness, I got a pixie cut. That lasted about three weeks, at which point my hair began to fall out in large clumps and I asked Chris to give me a buzz cut. Being bald didn’t really bother me. Honestly it was the least of my worries at the time. I was more concerned about surviving. I wore a wig to school, which was hot and uncomfortable, but I wanted to project some sense of normalcy for my third-grade students. When I wasn’t working I had a collection of berets that I wore when going out into the world.

When the hair grew back and got beyond the fuzzy baby-chick stage, I was shocked that not only was my base hair color much darker than before, but there was quite a bit more gray than before as well. I looked at myself in the mirror and didn’t feel like my appearance matched the “me” I had always been. It seemed unfair that cancer took one more thing from me. At the same time, I felt incredibly grateful just to have hair on my head again. It seemed frivolous at the time to do anything about the color, but eventually I took the plunge and went back to my light-brown-with-golden-highlights look. The expense didn’t thrill me, but I never really thought about stopping.

Enter COVID-19.

Women all over the world have been grappling with their hair color during these last few months. Some turned to color-in-a-box (which stores apparently couldn’t keep on the shelves, the demand was so high). Many ran to their stylist as soon as restrictions were eased, and breathed a sigh of relief when order was restored to their hair. Many, like me, didn’t feel comfortable returning to their stylist even when allowed by local authorities. It felt too soon and we still didn’t feel ready. I’m thinking that sometime in September I may return (if the virus numbers improve), but I’ve made the decision that I won’t be going in for color. I may get a super-short cut to get rid of most of the old color, or I may just have it trimmed back to the length it was before the pandemic. 

I’m keeping the color that I decided 5 years ago wasn’t “me”, because over the last few months I’ve come to realize my hair color actually isn’t that important to me anymore. Maybe it’s because I’ve realized that I’ve come to terms with the other things that cancer took from me. Maybe it’s because I realize that I actually love growing older and embracing the gray feels right and natural. I don’t know. All I know is, when I think about my “new” hair color and what it might look like when it’s all grown out, I feel happy and excited.  That’s enough for me.

I’m a great lover of before-and-after photos, so with that in mind I thought I would share with you some pictures of my hair journey:

Baby me
2010 – A few months after I decided to embrace the curls
December 2013 – one month before my diagnosis
The pre-bald pixie
Bald – doesn’t seem real to me now
The post-bald pixie – with the darker color
My hair color from October 2015 to March 2020

Love,

Michelle xoxo

Things That Make Me Happy #17

Sometimes I think I should just rename my blog “Things That Make Me Happy” because it seems like the only posts I can be counted on making are these weekly odes to happiness (even though today I’m a day late). I do like the self imposed structure of forcing myself at least once a week to let my mind settle on things about life that bring me joy. I find that it’s a practice that is helping to keep me on an even keel these days, and that, as Martha says, is a good thing.

I’ve been trying to get out and take some photos each day, but my 10+ hour days at work (I’m still working from my dining room) have cut into that a bit. I have gotten a few good shots, and I guess I should count a few good shots a week as success.

I’m still fascinated by the hummingbirds. Something that is making me especially happy is that we are now seeing very small hummingbirds at the feeder. Yes, I know all hummingbirds are very small – the ones we have been seeing are about half the size of the others, so we know that somewhere close by there sits a teeny hummingbird nest that these little ones called home not so long ago. That just makes me smile.

Baby animals of all kinds make me happy. This is probably the first year ever that I have paid enough attention to the bird life in my neighborhood to notice the difference between the adult birds flying around and their smaller, more tentative, slightly different colored (the robin young are a little less vibrant, the cardinal young are slightly more vibrant) offspring. I find that I am noticing everything about nature more this year – the budding trees and bushes in the springtime looked more beautiful and miraculous than ever before, but I know for certain they actually looked no different than in previous years. If there are any tiny silver linings of this time of coronavirus-imposed isolation, rediscovering the beauty of nature is one of them for me.

The daisies have been in bloom along the side of our garage for the last couple of weeks. All flowers bring me joy (the topic of another Things That Make Me Happy post), but especially daisies. As I am a hopeless gardener, the fact that daisies are perennials, spread each year, and are no-maintenance (well they might be happier with more maintenance than I give them, but they tolerate my neglect) are all pluses as well.

Working from home has a downside of allowing you the opportunity to work at any and all times. As we are currently in one of our busy seasons at work I could be tempted to work this weekend, but I made the decision yesterday afternoon as I powered down my computer that I will not turn it on until Monday morning. Setting that boundary is making me very happy. My plans for the weekend include sitting in our back yard, reading, taking some photos, writing to friends, and just writing in general. I’ve had some blog post ideas bubbling up in my brain these last few days and I hope to get them out to you soon.

And speaking of the blog, let me just say that knowing you are out there reading these offerings, well, that makes me very happy indeed. Thank you.

Michelle xoxo

Everybody now, “The Cirrrcle of Life!”

We are only two days into this work week and already I have worked 20 hours. I am now eyebrow-deep in our quarterly busy season that is “recon” – reconciling investment accounts so that we can send out quarterly statements. I started work at 7:00 this morning so by about 3:00 this afternoon my brain was feeling fried and I was starting to slow down when Chris says to me, “We have a dead skunk in the backyard.” Wait a minute – what? A dead skunk? 

Now, I have a very healthy respect for skunks and the havoc they can cause in our lives. I had a student once whose home was compromised by skunk stink (dog got sprayed and then came in and rolled all over the place). That poor boy’s family tried and tried to eradicate the stink but it held fast. The few times I have seen a skunk when out walking early in the morning, I have turned and run in the opposite direction faster than I have ever run before or since. So, although a dead skunk doesn’t pose the problem of being able to actively spray a person, there is no way I wanted to go anywhere near one of the species, dead or alive. 

We half-heartedly googled how to get rid of it ourselves, called the local animal control officials who didn’t help much, and then decided to enlist the services of a professional. We called a guy who would charge $100 (a small price to pay, I thought!) to remove all traces of the skunk from our property. Only catch was, he couldn’t come until tomorrow.

Having not taken a lunch hour today, I felt free to spread the news of our dead skunk far and wide via text. It did occur to me that the fact that a dead skunk was such big news reflected poorly on the level of excitement currently in my life. My favorite exchange was with Sam (who is presently at his dad’s house):

About 45 minutes later, Sam’s dad called to say that he would get rid of the skunk for us and wouldn’t charge a penny. As I was talking to him I walked over to the glass patio doors and saw this:

Stop the presses!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A vulture had somehow smelled this tender morsel and was having a very nice little meal. I’ve since learned that turkey vultures can smell a potential meal up to a mile away (tucking that away for my next stint on Jeopardy). He flew away for a bit, then came back to work on it some more. At present he is gone, but I’m hoping he’ll get hungry later. Meantime, we are cancelling on the guy who was going to come take care of it for us. Cha-ching! One hundred bucks now burning a hole in my pocket!

And how was YOUR day? 🙂

xoxo

Things That Make Me Happy #16

I am a huge fan of picnics! I think I’d rather have a picnic than eat in just about any restaurant. Even the simple sandwich-and-a-bag-of-chips is elevated way beyond its station by being involved in a picnic. I love setting out the tablecloth, unpacking the goodies from the cooler, and then just relaxing into the moment. When Sam and I visited my mother in Connecticut, we went on a picnic every single day. It was a way to enjoy the outdoors without coming into close proximity with other people.

Shall I tell you about my favorite picnic of all time?

In the summer of 2013 I traveled to London with Chris. Chris was working the entire week we were there, so I arranged to meet up with different friends each day and have adventures. One day my friend Sue and I climbed to the top of the O2 dome. Another day Sally and I had tea at Harrods. One early evening my friend Chris gave me a tour of London on his motorcycle (the first and only time I’ve ever been on a motorcycle – it was thrilling).

One day I arranged to meet my friend Dave at Borough Market. If you’ve never been to Borough Market, it’s an open air market with vendor stalls ranging from baked goods, meats, cheeses, candies…pretty much name something yummy and you can find it there. Dave and I wandered through Borough Market and bought items for a picnic – fresh bread, salami, cheese, organic apple/beet juice, brownies, and a meringue the size of my head (not actually the size of my head, but I love that phrase). We walked over to the lawn in front of the Tate Modern museum, I laid out my denim jacket as an improvised tablecloth, and we proceeded to eat our way through much of what we bought. Our eyes had been bigger than our stomachs, so we decided to eat only the savory items we bought and share the sweets with Dave’s wife Sarah when we met up with her later in the day (yay, two picnics in one day!).

If I had known I’d be sharing the photos with you these seven years later, I would have taken more and better quality photos, but you get the gist. It was a lovely, memorable day and I will cherish the memory forever.

One of these people is my friend Dave. To protect his privacy I won’t tell you which one. 🙂
Meringues the size of your head!
Yum!
I don’t know about you, but they had me at “sticky ginger.”
Picnic #1 – Savory!
We made a friend.
Picnic #2 – Sweet!

I hope you have a wonderful weekend, friends! Maybe a picnic will now be in your plans?

Love,

Michelle xoxo

Happy Happy

Sam drew this cartoon from a photo taken on the day.

Today is a happy day. Nine years ago today Chris and I got married. I gained a step-daughter and Sam gained a step-sister. With all the crazy stuff going on in the world today, it’s wonderful to think back on July 9, 2011. We were married in my parents’ backyard. My dad, who would die in 2014, gave me away. My oldest friend (we’ve been friends for nearly 48 years now) officiated. Our honeymoon was spent in a beach house with 8 other people (Sam, and Chris’ family who had traveled from the UK and New Zealand for the wedding). There was some stress and strain (torrential rain up until a few hours before the outdoor wedding, for instance), but to me, looking back, it was perfect.

Tomorrow, more things that make me happy. See you then. xoxo