So, in an effort to make all my stuff fit into my 1400 sq ft house with no garage, I'm attempting to follow a trend by determining what brings me joy. Those are the things I am focusing on. My dining room is currently FULL of every bit of crafting crap I own.
Last night I grabbed a box of notions and bottle of Glenmorangie lasanta.
That scotch sure brings me joy. Not because of any property of the alcohol.
But the taste. Exquisite. The warm sweet, smooth flavor of a good highland scotch.
I don't drink to get drunk.
I don't generally drink to get tipsy.
Nine times out of ten I don't drink to push the feelings away.
Ten times out of ten I drink because it brings me joy.
As I sorted though the box of notions and ribbons I discovered that some were very easy to set aside. Some were not.
I love the old silk ribbon.
What are the stories behind these bits?
Where had it been before I found it?
Was this all that was left after trimming a new dress half a century ago?
Did another woman caress the velvet and choose it for her hat?
I know. Call me crazy.
Silk embroidery floss. Vintage velvet ribbon. Glass buttons. These bring me joy.
I shall keep them.
Next up is the fabric. I haven't really sewn anything since I moved over a year ago. Mostly because I have too much stuff, too many half done projects, too many things I started and didn't finish.
I like sewing. I like quilting. I like embroidery. These things bring me joy.
Time to get it sorted so I can do the things that bring me joy.
Time to make time for the things that bring me joy.
Time to make my house a home. The walls are still mostly bare. There are still things piled everywhere with no homes. Time to decide were the extra sheets will actually be stored.
This year I have learned so much about myself.
I learned when to relax and have fun.
I learned to not discount my feelings.
I learned not to let important things slide.
I learned that my happiness is not dependent on anyone else's happiness.
I learned that my Littles just want me to be happy. They smile when I am and worry when I'm not.
Most importantly, I believe these things.
I don't second guess myself quite so much anymore.
I discovered that I know I am beautiful.
My 15-year old stretch marks, my not-so-perky-anymore-rather-small boobs, my I-had three-children hips, and my I-enjoyed-the-sunshine-as-a-child skin.
I know I really am happier when I wear glitter.
I know I really am happier with pink hair.
I know I really am happier wearing black and grey and shades thereof.
I'm far from perfect. FAR.
I really don't want to be perfect.
But, I have things about myself I would like improve.
I'd like to finish projects.
I'd like to not be so reclusive and to accept more invites to be social.
I'm working on making my house look the way I want it to.
I'm working on not so much clutter.
I'm working on losing that last 6 pounds and gaining enough physical strength to spend the day working on the house without sore shaky muscles.
So, it's time to refocus. Time to meander down my path alone and see what's around the next curve.