A memory from 2001, the drive around the ring of Kerry. This is a view, near Slea Head looking towards the An Fear Marbh (The Sleeping Giant/Dead Man) Island. A quick sketch made with chalk pastels. At the time, I didn’t understand the grandeur of what I was staring at when I was eight, but now the beauty of Ireland’s scenery lives rent-free in my mind.
I’ve been sewing for three years as a full-time apprentice after being laid off. I’ve mentioned this before in #1 – Welcome and #3 – First Sewing Project and it’s been a quick learning curve from hand-sewing, paper patterns, pattern drafting, and machine sewing, but one skill has eluded me for three years. That is the working buttonhole with professional-looking buttonholes! Not my crappy buttonholes that look like an animal chewed a hole through the fabric and I hastily sewed some thread around it, no I’m talking about secure, there for the long haul, even button holes. Well-anchored and secure fasteners of fashion! Well, I figured it out thanks to YouTube and I am incredibly happy!
This shirt has a working placket of buttons and buttonholes, with a self-drafted shirt front and back panels, collar, and sleeves with a gusset for a more fitted sleeve shape. I finished the sleeves with a cuff for added pizazz. This shirt is made from buffalo plaid flannel from Mood Fabrics that sat in my fabric stash for 11 months waiting for the right project. At first, I bought it to make a two-piece pj set, which then was revised into matching pj pants for Kyle and me, and was further revised into pj pants for Kyle and a flannel shirt for me.
I love this print because it has Canadian Geese, Caribou, and Elk. Elk hold a special place in my heart because of where my husband is from, Caribou makes me think of the song Long Time Running by The Tragically Hip, the red plaid makes me think of my Canadian heritage, and Canadian Geese are my comfort animals.
I’m sure that sounds weird but I will elaborate. When I was 10, my mom had this amazing opportunity to go to Ireland through her work. Although it was only for 10 days, it really scared me because I had never been away from her that long. I was used to not seeing my dad for months, but my mom was always there for me. On the day her trip began, my grandparents took me mini-golfing and while we were there this little baby Canadian Goose, gosling I guess, followed me around through our entire game. It was my little buddy. I named it Popcorn. The owners of the course said they had never seen this happen before. If it hadn’t been a wild animal, I would have asked to adopt it.
Fast forward fifteen years later and I’m living in Savannah, Georgia. I moved closer to get to know my dad who lived in Savannah and I had a falling out with my mom in the process. My grandparents are now sick and I’m feeling lost. Each time I went to prayer meeting at Compassion Christian there was a flock of Canadian Geese in the parking lot. It was July and August, not prime migration time. It was odd, and I felt like they were there for me. A reminder that God was with me even when I was feeling lost and homesick.
Two years later, my grandpa passed away, the world was shut down and I felt lonely and lost in Meadville, unsure of how to feel home again. My grandma was now a widow and grieving, we didn’t know it yet but she was starting to move towards heaven, as she would in December of that year. I began to notice something each day at 4 pm, a lone goose or a flying V of Canadian Geese will fly directly over our house. Every day. This continues for a year. I even moved to a new place within that year and it still happened. When that goose or group of geese approached my house, I would hear the honk and I would run outside to watch it fly. In that moment I felt a feeling of comfort, like I could feel God’s presence with me so intensely. Just like a parent’s presence can make you feel safe, I felt that.
I’d say this is probably my favorite item in my wardrobe right now. Thank you, dear reader, for hanging out with me today. I hope you feel safe and loved today.
I want this post to be as real as possible. As I am currently tapping these keys into letters on this virtual page, I am uncertain if this will actually get posted. I don’t write enough and I think that is because I get too into my head. Perfectionism takes hold and I let the ideas flow out of my brain and into the atmosphere. I let myself talk my creative mind out of ideas that may be wonderful. I stumble and overthink. I’ve been thinking about what’s on my mind today for a couple months now, actually a couple years if I take stock. Okay, here it goes.
I’m bad at going to church, I’m not even sure if I like it or have ever liked it. Yikes. I said it. But I want to be different because I would like to have a community in my town and also keep a teachable spirit throughout my life.
Early on, church and school melded into one – private Christian education. That remained a constant throughout my time at college. Becoming an adult and reflecting on my time in church communities across various denominations has confused me more than it has filled me with an appetite to go. I feel shame for my feelings and I’m also concerned that if I called out the reasons in the circles that have left me feeling this way they would shut their ears until I “repented” and then they would still not hear me out.
Denominations I have attended or interacted with at school or in life:
Reformed Presbyterian
Christian Missionary Alliance
Nazerene
Catholic
Orthodox Reformed Presbyterian
Russian Orthodox
Greek Orthodox
Presbyterian USA
Seventh Day Adventist
Presbyterian split from USA
Evangelical Presbyterian
Non-Denominational
Presbyterian PCA
Baptist
Pentecostal
Methodist
Anglican
Lutheran
Mennonite
Amish
It’s quite the cross-section, spanning North America and Europe. Through these different church doctrinal cultures, I have been the weird kid with no siblings. The weird kid with a single mom. The weird kids with divorced parents. The weird kid who lives with her grandparents. The weird kid with no dad. The weird kid with catholic family members, whom my Reformed Presbyterian friends and family could not approve of. I’ve been the one who is uncomfortable by how Protestants self-righteously look down on Catholic and Orthodox friends. I’ve been the one who has felt out of place.
The girl who has been questioned, privately and publically about my faith because I like art and want to become a fashion designer. I have been questioned about my faith because I do not have children yet I am married. I have been questioned about my faith when I was the breadwinner of my relationship temporarily because my husband took an opportunity that temporarily had a pay cut. I’ve been questioned about my faith because of tattoos, ear piercings, fashion choices, and clip-in purple hair extensions. My salvation has been mocked because I sing hymns instead of psalms.
I’ve encountered churches that would not let me join or take communion unless my husband was first a member. I’ve encountered people who are self-righteous about their Pentecostal experiences. I’ve also attended churches where the pastor looks like an MTV cast member and preaches that your life will be full of wealth and privilege like him if you listen to him. I’ve heard sermons teach unbiblical things for the sake of social capital and popularity. I’ve encountered out-of-touch snobbery and generosity from humble people.
I’ve genuinely enjoyed four churches – the Spanish service in Paris at a very old church, Pastor Knapp’s preaching at First Presbyterian Church in an old stained glass stone church, SOMA in a random basement of building seated at tables instead of pews so that you could have a meal afterward (it was an inner city mission in my hometown), Compassion Christian with their rockband and folding chairs. My first thought after writing that is to realize that the “church” really doesn’t matter to me, it’s the people and their kindness. Their love for the Lord and his Word by which they are seeking to be Christ-like instead of being Christian – my favorite descriptor, not.
I have no idea what the point of sharing this is other than the fact that it is on my heart, and I feel led to talk about it because I don’t want to feel dread at the thought of joining a church, but I currently do. I don’t feel dread of stepping foot in a church or listening to a sermon and worshipping God. I’m not afraid to be identified with Christ or to share my testimony. But dang, the cliques, the judgment, and the bickering of the people in the church have really messed with my perception of the church. I’m not a snowflake for feeling that way, and I’m also not living in sin, I just know there is more I could be doing for the Kingdom of God if I joined a church that I will be missing out on if I can’t seem to get past this pothole in the road. It’s like a massive February pothole on a Pittsburgh road that might swallow your car hole if you hit it right.
I guess the point of this post is to bring community to the other ones like me who simply do not feel heard or welcome to voice the church hurt that they have. The ones who are struggling to separate who God is from these crazy humans running the operation called church. Can we help each other?
I was struck by a moment recently where I felt transported back to middle school, watching Mean Girls. The plastics stand in front of a mirror and one by one they list something they hate about their body until they get to the new girl, Cady, who freezes. She quickly says she has really bad breath in the morning and the plastics, satisfied, move on to a new topic. I used to feel like that girl in the girl world because I honestly didn’t enjoy standing around finding flaws in myself as a form of bonding.
I’d rather talk about something more fruitful, lighthearted, or productive than pick at myself and others’ flaws. However I have noticed throughout the years that some girl friendship dynamics get pulled into a negative space, and sometimes they simply move into the negative neighborhood permanently.
It’s awkward because how do you communicate that you love your friend but the friendship environment they create can be downright toxic?
How do you steer the conversation back to something positive when that person just wants to complain and whine without starting a fight that puts the friend on the defense?
I’ve been pondering this because there are so many amazing things about this friend I wish she would focus on instead of what’s going wrong or what she is choosing not to make better in her life. We have a myriad of things we could be discussing because we are both wonder-filled by the world and its beauty, cultures, cuisine, music, etc. We could discuss books and the many writing projects we both want to accomplish. We could be planning a craft project we could coordinate for our next hang out, one of the many we send each other that one day we will try. Can that day be today?
It always starts like a pebble, one bad day in the recap of the week, and then it finds negative pebble friends. By the next conversation, the cup is overflowing and the light is being blocked from view by the stack of stones growing before me. I wish I could figure out how to capture that pebble, put it in my pocket, and skip it far away.
Instead, I find myself sifting through the back forty of my mind looking for a flaw to add to the pile of complaints my friend is listing off. I feel so fake and vapid manufacturing a problem in my head just to bond because not having a complaint would be a toxic girl conversation faux pax.
And wouldn’t you know my friend is stunning? She is photogenic, tall, and has the proportions to pull off every item of clothing I wish I could. Her heart is even more stunning than the outside. She is talented and accomplishing so much more in her professional life than I ever could. That’s why these toxic conversations drive me to the edge because she is amazing just the way she is.
When Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life came out in 2016, I was underwhelmed. Disappointed and frustrated? Like a lot more frustrated than I was by the vile season seven situation.
Tonight as I was sipping on some mint tea and letting my mind wander, maybe it’s the goldenrod pollen clouding my judgement, but as I sat and let my mind unwind, I pondered Gilmore Girls. In the background Florida and Tennessee play and a myriad of commercials clutter the game, including a Dancing with the Stars commercial featuring Alyson Hannigan who portrayed Lily on How I Met Your Mother. I remembered how much I disliked Lily and preferred Robin, yet now in 2023 I can’t see past the painful “not like other girls’ characterization of Robin. Then I thought of Rory. How Rory is special, that phrase hovers in the wings of every episode. But why is Rory special? Is she ” not like other girls”? Or maybe she is designated as special because the ending of Gilmore Girls ingeniously makes the odd writing make sense? Could it?
Hear me out, the ending that Rory writes a book about their lives called “Gilmore Girls” as the wrap up to the story was a bit on the nose for me. I found it a cop out to the illustrious future she was supposed to have and questioned whether this whole reboot was a cash grab (before that became a trend in the 2020s) and not a way for Amy Sherman-Palladino and Dan Palladino to get redemption for season seven and wrap up their show their way. I doubted and I scoffed. I questioned the whole revisit to Stars Hollow and have shunned it from Gilmore Girls cannon.
In the years since, I have struggled with stomaching Rory’s behavior and the self-centeredness of the Gilmore Girls throughout the series as their actions are brushed off and accepted as frickin’ adorable even when they are out of line. Maybe it was maturity or the reboot left a bad taste in my mouth? I’m not sure. Currently I stop my Gilmore Girls re-watches at the end of season five because Rory and Lorelai’s falling out in season six felt too close to some of my own personal issues. The Huntzberger drama and Luke’s daughter, the marriage of Chris and Lorelai, Lane and Zach’s marriage, etc. It’s all bad. So I end my journey at the end of season five and hope that Rory really doesn’t drop out of Yale and act like such an entitled brat in season six. I know it’s silly but I grew up with Rory’s story arc and she was a character I wanted to be more like. I wanted to be driven and achieve great things and early Rory was kind, thoughtful of others, I wanted to be like that. She doesn’t stay that way, she becomes a bit of a monster, yet her world doesn’t see her that way. How does that work? It’s one of the biggest plot holes to me, unless the ending of the reboot makes it make sense.
If Rory indeed wrote the Gilmore Girls story, then her main character energy would make sense. Her behavior would be excused by her bias. The town, friends, and family would revolve around her in her world and it would justify her inability to take criticism, because why would she need it if she is writing her “truth”.
The bizarre reflection of her choices and decisions that always come up smelling like roses no matter how bad her decisions are (like her affair with Dean) all seem plausible now. The magnetic energy of Lorelai and how she is the “queen” of Stars Hollow would also make sense because she sees Lorelai as her hero. Those behind the scenes out of character sweet moments from Emily and Richard, seem like wishful thinking instead of reflecting how manipulative they choose to be. It all makes sense. Even Christopher’s docile portrayal of not being that bad of a guy, even though he abandoned them, I mean I always wished for that from my dad. In the bad times, as a kid, I’d try to paint him in a better light.
It’s interesting to think of at least that maybe all the ugly of the final seasons of Gilmore Girls actually wraps up into something that makes sense. Rory paints herself into someone we like, a unicorn that everyone loves because she is telling the story and that is how it all weaves together after all. Something to think about at least as I rewatch the series again this fall.
Have you ever watched Gilmore Girls? If so did you like the reboot? Do you like the character of Rory through the entire series?
*Trigger Warning – weight, self-worth, ED, sizing* No worries if this one is not for you ❤
I wasn’t planning to write about this, mainly because I felt so ashamed a month ago when I visited my local outlets with an expectant heart to find the perfect baggy jeans to match my YesStyle inspiration photos, instead of finding what I wanted I got my butt handed to me by the un-standardization of standardized sizing and underwhelming offerings of American denim in 2023. Yeah, it was that kind of trip.
So I knew I would not find exactly what I was looking for because I was inspired by the offerings of Korean brands YesStyle and Acubi Club, and American fashion is different. I also knew that the reflection in the mirror would not look like what the photos looked like because I’m Irish-German-Canadian and not Korean, I am built differently. That was fine. I’m also not the same size as most K-pop idols because I’m not in my late teens-early twenties, plus the addition of age, stress, and developing intolerance to milk and casein protein, my body put on some weight. I’m not happy about it but I’m working on it so that I can lose the weight and keep it off.
With all that in mind, I forgot that there has been a shift in the desired body type since the last time I bought jeans. Slim-thick and curvy hips are out, heroin chic is in. Yikes. I say yikes because the last time this body type was during the y2k era and 2000s, but at least we had stretchy hip hugger jeans. Some of these jeans I tried on that were for Fall 2023 had the 1990s baggy shape but with ridged denim and were cut exclusively for a straight up and down body shape. One of the stores I found the most disappointing was Aeropostale. Now I know this is skewed to junior’s sizing, but it had the most potential because of the aesthetic of the styles they advertized across their store. There is an Acubi and K-fashion vibe to it, including a variety of cargo pants, compared to American Eagle which was also at my outlet but had an entirely different aesthetic. But, Aeropostale was frustrating for one reason alone – inconsistent sizing.
As I combed through the denim offerings, looking for the biggest size to have the most oversized look I could, I overheard a group of high schoolers who had just tried on jeans and were worriedly sifting through the pants for a bigger size. Two to three sizes bigger as the very slim teenagers worried nothing was going to fit them. I should have heeded this warning, but instead I loaded my arm with options and headed to the dressing room, much like Mort as he scampers, unaware up the beach as the shark tried to bite him.
It did not go well. One pair I got somewhat on my body but it was nowhere near close to zippering. The other ones simply would not go over my thighs, the so-called baggy jeans feeling a lot more like a recycled mom jeans pattern from 2019 instead of the baggy skater jeans of the late 1990s and early 2000s. (Trust me, I remember wearing both and the mom jeans were heckin’ uncomfortable.)
I kept calm and carried on to Wrangler which was a mistake because the women’s jeans were fitted, hourglass-shaped, and no longer stretchy. Can someone explain how curve-hugging jeans are supposed to do that when they are rigid denim? Anyways. The men’s jeans fit fine, but not what I was looking for. With the wind out of my sails, Kyle suggested Old Navy. At this point, I was afraid of jeans and women’s sizing. As I walked through Old Navy I grabbed sizes bigger than I ever tried before, grasping at straws in hopes that something would work. Ironically last season’s jeans gave me what I was looking for. I found success in the clearance section and purchased my Acubi-style jeans for $10. It was a screamin’ deal. It also was an ego gut punch as I bought jeans three sizes up from where I thought I would be. I selected two pairs and they are each a different size yet they fit me the same. Please, make it make sense!
Although I was happy to have found a style dupe, I felt this sense of dread about the other pants in my wardrobe. Was it the clothing or had my body changed again? Were my handcrafted, self-drafted, un-sized clothing pieces wrecking my ability to feel comfortable in standardized sizing? It left me in a terrible headspace where I pinballed between unworthiness and an unhinged desire to punish my body with intense workouts and restrictive diets. All over vanity. I don’t like how easily I put my worth in my outward appearance. This trivial experience weighed on my mind and affected my August.
I no longer wanted to catalog styling my handmade pieces. I felt like hiding from the blog as my inner monologue was pretty nasty towards myself, I didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin. I just wanted to hide until I could force my body into the current shape of the moment. I felt old and fat. I’m neither of those things, but the inner critic consumed me.
For the next week, I pushed myself to dial back my bad habits, portion down my plate, and cut back on sweets. I took it a little too far and had to let myself have a cookie because I realized I was spiraling to a really unhealthy place where I believed I needed to earn my food (90s American diet culture, anyone?)
One positive that came from this diet push was to break free from the fear of tracking my calories burned and distance on the exercise bike, instead of it being restrictive I found it motivating. I even reached a pace of 3 min/mile. It was so exciting! The experience showed me that I needed to make simple swaps because my cardio was good and the muscles underneath some of my chubby bits were getting strong, I just needed to tone and get leaner.
Now of course, just as we make progress in life, discouragement rears its ugly head. I cut my leg on the bike so I had to pause riding for a week, which of course broke the habit I built. I began lifting the set of weights we had for exercise instead and hit myself on the shoulder. I got an angry ingrown toenail making my planks painful and a stomach bug to boot. All in the span of 10 days, life is good. But in the meantime I started doing wall sits every day and planks most days. I can do a wall sit for 1 minute to 1 minute and 30 seconds. My plank time has also increased from 30 seconds to a minute. My posture is improving, my mind is growing stronger, and I am seeing results in my arms, legs, and waistline. I don’t mind the portion control at all actually I’ve enjoyed getting healthier and eating more fruit like bananas with my oatmeal. Popcorn is my go-to evening snack and I let myself have a piece of dark chocolate or two in the afternoon slump.
I feel agency again in my own body. I’ve learned that the weight I put on is not out of my control, and I can change the shape of my body with discipline, not restriction and punishment. Exercising is more of a mental thing than a physical task, and when I am struggling to stay motivated to push myself I remind myself that I can do anything for 30 seconds. I’m going to apply that mindset to life when it gets scary.
Ice Melting as Tea Pours Over – The Iced Tea Maker
Crack of a Bat Making Contact on a Pitch – Masataka Yoshida and Matt Olson
Swishing into Water – My Watercolor Brushes
The Quiet of Windpower – Sailboats in Lake Arthur
Till We Meet Again – Aespa
A Duel of Roaring – Cash and Simba (Lions of Keystone Safari)
General Sawing Sounds ft. Router into Wood – Kyle’s Woodshop
Rotations of a Fan Blade – Window & Pedestal Fans
The Sloshing of Mud – Fish Pond Course of Tumbleweed Ranch
Popping – Boba Pearls
Sliding Across Dirt – Ronald Acuna Jr. Stealing Another Base
Words of Japanese – Hamusuke’s Japanese Learning
Antlers Scratching – Reindeer Barn
Small Munches – Goats
Tapping of Bamboo – Knitting Needles
As If It’s Your Last – Blackpink
Screaming Goats – Stephanie Canada Videos
Cardboard Opening – Alexandria Ryan
Shrimp Sizzling – The Wok
Crackle of Caramelization – The Grill
The Yell of an Incoming Pitch – Shohei Ohtani
The Tortoise and Hare – Stray Kids
Whoosh of a Golf Club – Driving Range
Sound of Accomplishment – Animal Crossing New Horizons
Thread Pulling Through Aida Cloth – The Burrow Crossstitch
Severe Weather Briefing – Reed Timmer
Thunder that Shakes the House – Cold Fronts
Squeaks on the Front Stoop – Chipmunk
Lawn Mower – Bob’s Landscaping Service
The Real – Ateez
Rattling of My Bobbin – Singer Heavy Duty Sewing Machine (aka Señor Senior Singer)
Sticking of Clay to Make Faux Wood Grain – Rachel Maksy
Pedaling – The Exercise Bike
After Daniel and some prayer for direction, I landed on 1 Corinthians as the next place in the Bible I felt the Lord leading me to wander through. The first chapter of 1 Corinthians, a familiar book, really stuck out to me; honestly, I haven’t been seeing things the same way since. I’ll explain.
A little background on this book and my faith journey, when I was a kid I got this book and the book of Chronicles confused all the time although they are about vastly different things. The Corinthians being addressed here are members of a church in Corinth, an ancient city located in south-central Greece. This is one of two letters written to the church by Paul. He knew the people and addressed specific issues being raised in communication between him and the members. It is also a look into how the early church navigated living in a multi-cultural world in the Roman Empire that was not a Christian culture. It is an example the modern church can use to look to for direction in our current-day issues that are not unlike the ones faced by the Corinthian believers because we are all fallen humans, so there are bound to be problems in how we live in community together.
Therein is the rub. Some modern believers take the conversations in the letters of Paul verbatim and copy and paste the ancient scenario into their current day with mixed results, sometimes as a weapon and sometimes in love, it’s a complex thing that gets oversimplified based on who is teaching it. Actually, it sounds a lot like the passage I read in 1 Corinthians 1:10-17.
I appeal to you, brothers, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same judgment. For it has been reported to me by Chloe’s people that there is quarreling among you, my brothers. What I mean is that each one of you says, “I follow Paul,” or “I follow Apollos,” or “I follow Cephas,” or “I follow Christ.” Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul? I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius, so that no one may say that you were baptized in my name. (I did baptize also the household of Stephanas. Beyond that, I do not know whether I baptized anyone else.) For Christ did not send me to baptize but to preach the gospel, and not with words of eloquent wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power.
1 Corinthians 1: 10-17 ESV
I tend to be less excited when I start reading through a book of the Bible when it is a book that pastors and teachers seem to loop through, like the gospels, 1 & 2 Corinthians, Romans, Acts, 1&2 Thessalonians, Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians and 1&2 Timothy, etc because those sermons feel like they are washed across the pages like a lacquer keeping me from getting in the pages and their intrinsic message from God. The new level of podcasts and social media commentary on the Bible being shared at rapid fire is making it worse in my opinion. There are so many people’s hands on it and their words of interpretation live rent-free in our heads more than God’s understanding.
Now I’m not trying to pick, obviously, the word needs to be taught and all these tools we have at our disposal should be utilized instead of ignored. People are literally doing their best and I appreciate them for the work that they do and acknowledge that it’s a tough thing to understand and teach. I guess what struck me from a place of frustration was the inward conviction of – well if you weren’t understanding My Word through the words of other people and were following me first, the teaching and opinions of others second, maybe you wouldn’t have this problem, hm? Ouch. Yeah, I’m guilty of that. But thankfully those kinds of moments of conviction from the Holy Spirit are an invitation to dive deeper, there is a way forward to get back on track and I love that about the Lord. He never leaves us where he finds us, we choose not to move forward but His hand is always open to take the next step.
This was kind of a short reflection on my read through 1 Corinthians 1, but I hope that it encourages you in its conciseness. What I gleaned from it was simple. Follow me.
I hope wherever you are you are safe, loved, and know that your creator sees you. You are special. ❤ Until next time.
What are your top ten favorite movies?
This was filmed a few years before I visited Ireland and feels like a time capsule of memories plus it has a memorable storyline.
I love weather, and following the adventures of storm chasing. The 90s vibes are strong with this one, including a vintage Jeep truck.
Since getting married and briefly living in the South, this movie has grown fonder in my heart. My dream growing up was to move to NYC and show at Bryant Park like Melanie.
I am a lot like Bridget Jones and this movie is just so heartwarming.
I love you, most ardently from your aesthetics to your soundtrack. The filming is a pure delight.
Clever, witty, and not just a kid’s movie.
Her name is Maggie! And I love the autumnal world of this 90s movie. Kyle and I also visited the real town on a vacation.
I enjoy pirate things – the aesthetic and history. Great scenery and fun storytelling.
This movie is so dang relatable. I’d love to live in their house.
Iconic, full of camp, but loveable nonetheless.
Honorable Mentions:
I am full of delight with hints of fall dancing in the cool breeze of a cold front and speckling the leaves of trees with those first hints of autumn. This is my favorite time of year, as summer fades into a golden glow that leads us into the merriment of fall, Halloween, and beyond towards Christmas. I’ve noticed these little moments as I walk around Keystone Safari, a place that has refreshed my soul more than I could imagine. I’ve found a safe, consistent place to walk and be surrounded by nature. Not only nature but the beauty of creation because Keystone Safari and its sister park, Living Treasures. They are two wildlife conservation parks nearby that have brought a sense of peace and wonderment to an otherwise mundane small town.
Through these experiences, I have been able to see penguins, lions, giraffes, kookaburras, kangaroos, mandrills, anteaters, and more up close and have been astonished by the creativity in their design and the magnitude of what an incredible world we live in.
I love animals. I have since I was a child and if I had been a better biology student, maybe I would have pursued a career where I could take care of animals. Not being in a house currently where we can have a pet, I forgot how comforting being around animals can be, even healing. The opportunity to go feed, pet, or just observe and learn about animals from around the world has been a great blessing. Getting more sun, fresh air, exercise, and experience around big groups of people again has been good for me too. I am not good with crowds.
The reminder of that smacked me in the face on Monday when I went to a local county fair and immediately panicked, by the sea of people. As I walked back towards the animal barns in search of the ‘Goat Olympics’ and rabbit judging, the constant waves of people made me feel like a salmon fighting against a current. No matter what I did I could not relax. My usual trick of looking at the sky did not calm my mind. Instead, I felt like I was white-knuckling it until the exit gate came into view. I feel embarrassed when crowds get the best of me and I wish I could be one of those people who is unphased by the spectacle of it instead of feeling overstimulated.
Something that does bring me back to a state of calm though is a short visit to my current Animal Crossing island. I recently deleted my previous island Acorn and created a new island called Oddinary in hopes of creating a cozy fall-themed island with the fall recipes that will be in the seasonal rotation again. The name of the island is inspired by Stray Kids’s EP Oddinary featuring the songs Venom and Maniac. There is a spooky vibe to music videos that I thought would meld two of my favorite things – fall and k-pop into one cozy place of my imagination.
If you have never played the game, and my knowledge is limited to New Horizons, the game follows the 12-month calendar and is a little escape from reality on an island that you transform from deserted to a community. For me living in a hyper-individualistic (more like selfish) culture, it is like living in another time when community was important and cheers me up on the days I feel lonely.
Although my life is full of blessings, I’ve been feeling melancholy and hiding away in knitting and sewing projects. I need to continue to dig into my devotions, and my faith and trust the process of what I am going through with my parents because God does not leave us in states of loneliness, nor does He forget about us when we need people. He brings people into our lives to fill the gaps of those who have left us and He sustains us with His love and mercy. That’s what I need to focus on and instead, I tend to dwell on what I want not what I need. And I have so many great people in my life who want to be there.
One of those amazing people is Kyle and I think each day I grow fonder of him. Each day we find something new that we have in common and for that I treasure the peaceful bubble that God is leading me towards, cutting away the distractions yet surrounding me with friends who want to be like my family. For that I praise God.
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
Lamentations 3:22-23
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
One Rabbit Riot 