Accidents and Friendships

Our friendship are accidents.  We meet people and form friendships by happy accident.  No one says , "Hey, let me analyze the school yard/classroom/parents' play group/lunchroom to decide who to be friends with.  It is usually "You like Strawberry Shortcake/country music/Dr. Sears method of sleep training/The Yankees too?"  We don't plan our friends -they just happen.  And so do real accidents.
We had an accident this weekend (not our fault, by the way).  No one was hurt - yeah - but it got me thinking about friends.  We live 6 hours away from family so the joys of having someone you can call on in a pinch doesn't happen.  Or it wouldn't if it weren't for friends.  I was able to call a friend and he came and picked us up.  Do you know how nice it is to have that?  You expect it (or should be able to expect it) from family.  After all, they are obligated to do things like that.  Friends aren't.
When the cop asked if there was someone we could call to come and pick us up, I started the list in my head.  I am a list person.  I am also a box person - I organize things into compartments.  So in my head, I started to make a list of people who 1.  I could call and 2. had a vehicle big enough to put 2 adults and 2 car seats in.  I only had to make one call; the others on the list were only if that person didn't pick up for some reason.  But the fact is, I had a LIST.  Several people that I could call that I knew would come and get us simply because they would.  I hope that they know I would do the same for them.
I am grateful for my friends.

(and would you believe this is 5,000.00 worth of damage?  I am glad we aren't paying for it! )

Style

Style.  Ahh, yes.  Style has become almost synonymous with a sense of self.  It represents, defines who you are.  There is clothing style, hair style, jewelry style, and of course home decorating style.
For me, clothing style is comfort (ie - pajamas and tank tops) for leisure and 1950's style dress for dress up.  Hair, simple again; easy to maintain. Jewlery is minimalist.  My husband and I had a disagreement about the size of my engagement ring.  He wanted to get me a bigger stone but I didn't want a whole carat. Yes, you read right.  I WANTED A SMALLER DIAMOND.   I have small fingers (the only part of my body that is small and delicate) and a carat would look ridiculous on it.
Now to the point of this, home decorating style.  Ahhh, see this is the tough one.  This is the one where, when you are married, you have to merge your sense of style with someone else.  There are different types of men you can marry. One doesn't care, one wants veto power and the last wants to be involved. And I married the last one.
I have a theory.  The younger the guy is when you marry him, the less he cares.  See, you can train him to like whatever style you like but the older the guy gets, the more he develops his own sense of style.  Often, this sense of style is based on the idea of comfort - hence, the hideous gray blue couch that my husband still regrets selling because it was a great "sleeping couch".  And if he still had it, he might have had more occasion to use it over the years!
Just kidding.  Sort of.
I have found that my own sense of style has matured.  We have learned to meld our styles.  We have learned that when we both really like something, we continue to like it  ie the lamps it took us 2 years to find.  It is when either of us compromises that we dislike whatever it is. 
So what is our style?  We are still getting rid of "his" and "hers".  Hey, we aren't made of money! So we are gradually switching things over.  So far, we have been looking at couches on and off for the past year but a bigger vehicle trumped a sofa.
I would say our style is a subtler steampunk.  If I ever figure out how to add pictures, I will.  Until then, google it!  And enjoy!

A rose by any other name . . .

I have been reading friends blogs and at some point they always explain why they chose the name that they did.  I like their names, mine, I think sounds a little corny but it is "me". And there is a special meaning to it. 
I think God chooses to teach me lessons every year.  One year, it was about being content with what I have, other times, it is just patience - a reoccurring theme! This year, I think it is about counting your blessings ie focusing on what is positive; however small.  Hence, the last part of my title.  The first part has to do with my wedding.
My husband is a lot more involved in planning events and decorating our house than I would like.  Sometimes, I just want him to say, "Whatever you want, dear."  He isn't like that.  Now, usually, he lets me pick small things (like beige lamp shades or table clothes) but he has definite opinions on what he likes and doesn't.  I guess it makes sense; he lives here too and it is his "castle".  I wouldn't want to live in a place surrounded by things I didn't care for.  And I suppose all wives go through it to some degree ie "No flowers in MY bedroom."  But sometimes, it is a pain.  For example, it took us 2 years to decide on living room lamps - and to get rid of his bachelor ones! Our styles are similar but just so slightly off that it makes it hard to agree things.  We have been talking about a new couch for over a year.  However, when we do decide TOGETHER, we are very happy with the results.  I really love the living room lamps. 
But what does this have to do with the title?  Ok, more about style later!

When we were planning our wedding (just wait, I will get to it), I did the "Here are 3 choices, what do you think?" method of involving my soon to be.  I guess, I should have listened more and I would have known what our marriage would be like because he did have definite opinions about invitations, color, etc.  Poor guy, I did not let him have his colar-less tux.  While he had those opinions (some of which I steamrolled over) one thing he did insist on was roses.  He loves roses.  We got married in June so ok, we had roses. Since then, roses have become "our flower".  I have only ever been given roses from my husband.  I have even given him roses - note, guys, even Renaissance ones like mine, don't really dig getting flowers.
And now, the reason for the story, Sometimes, blessings are like getting a rose from one who loves you, you get a whole dozen and the room is filled with the fragrance and beauty.  Sometimes, you get just one rose, still, you have the fragrance and beauty but sometimes, you get just a petal and you really have to hold the petal close to appreciate the beauty, the smell, the texture.
Sometimes, the blessings are very obvious and sometimes, you have to really look at it to appreciate it. 
So be a blessing to someone today and my hope is you have a blessing yourself!
Belinda

New to this

I used to keep a journal.  I have 20 of those 5x8 fabric bound books that I would put my thoughts in.  One even has my "art" in it. I enjoyed the process of writing - to see how I could manipulate the language to try and express my thoughts in what I thought was eloquent.  I still enjoy writing, I just don't do it now.   
My first journal was one my parents gave me when I was about 10.  Typical diary style with a lock and generic key.  It had a unicorn on the cover and I loved it.  It seemed so private to me.  My siblings were intrigued by it.  They wanted to know what was in it and I tempted them with all the "secrets" a 10 year old could possibly have that were written down in there - really it was nothing.  One day, I opened it to write and saw that they had written their names in it.  Stupid.  I immediately marched downstairs and triumphantly showed my parents the proof of their sins.  I am sure my parents were laughing even as they punished the offenders. 
As a parent, I would be rolling on the floor!
As a parent, I have little time to write on paper - my books keep being stolen by my children for their art.  And I am of the school that writing should be available to those who would read it.  I don't expect a following but knowing that it is "out there" will make it more real; more worthwhile.   
I remember my mom telling me that she burned her teenage diaries.  All I could think of was that it was a waste.  I wanted to know that I was not alone. 
Maybe someone will read this and know that they are not alone either.

Belinda