Beauty

 "I am going to make a beautiful life for myself, no matter what it takes."

I'm sitting and going through my nighttime routine, but it can wait for a bit.

I'm experiencing a little warm glow of gratitude. And that's worth pausing things to just sit and focus on. 

I've been a bit discouraged lately. When I was in Eastern Oregon, I had my life together, a little bit. My trailer was organized. It was clean a lot of the time, even! 😅 The fact that I maintained things is a really big deal. Given the ups and downs of my health, keeping things manageable and putting them back in order is really difficult to do over any period of time. Often I feel like my life falls apart periodically, and it is so exhausting to pick the pieces back up again, that I often just ... don't. 

It causes me a lot of shame. I hate not feeling able to invite people over. I hate sitting down to rest and just seeing a bunch of "to-dos" everywhere I look. 

It's overwhelming and discouraging, and I hate asking for help. 

It can be hard to tell someone else how to help me. It's mentally taxing, and when my brain is already overloaded by the clutter in my home, sometimes articulating goals isn't possible. And, asking for help means admitting that I'm having trouble. Which isn't a great feeling. Also, for someone to help, they have to enter the mess: the source of my stress and shame and exhaustion. It's a very vulnerable position to put myself in. So I usually don't.

But then I'm isolated in a pile of dirty dishes and laundry and I still need to eat and wear clothes and be with people. So I get depressed and stressed and exhausted, and the cycle continues.

The apartment never really got fully clean after my first few months to a year there. When I moved into the trailer, I purposed to be intentional about what entered this space. I also wanted my things to be limited enough that even if everything were to pile up, I could look around and say, "Give me a couple of good days and it'll all be taken care of."

In Eastern Oregon, that was the case. I had just moved in, so things were organized and fresh. Hannah had helped me with everything, so when it was time to unpack boxes and settle in, I didn't have to explain it all to her. She knew where things were supposed to go. It was a lovely start, and I was able to keep things in that condition. 

After a project, supplies went back to their place. I was using my cousins' laundry room, so I had to be efficient with it, out of consideration. I had people over sometimes, and I never knew when Uncle Leland or one of the boys would need to come in to look at something or fix something. So I kept blankets and pillows piled in cozy corners of my couch, and kept the floor swept clean. 

I think the biggest thing, though, is that I was always around people. Whenever I wanted, I could pop into the house and hold a baby or talk to Aunt Sandra or my cousins. We did life together, and it consistently fed my soul and replenished me. So life in general was easier to manage. Also, the sun shines every day there, pretty much. And it is so life-giving. Even in frigid temperatures, I would walk out to the mailbox or to say hi to the cows, or give a carrot to Ike the old horse.

But then my time there came to an end. All of a sudden, I just knew it was time to come back to the valley. So things were very rushed coming back. Basically, as soon as we were confident that it would be safe to go over the passes, Mom and Dad came and got me! So packing was hurried, and things were shoved into boxes that still haven't all been opened. I think. And the trailer got parked by my parents' house, which was a temporary arrangement. So I was stuck in a liminal state for a few months. (Much longer than I expected.)

Then, finally, my little home got moved to the shop area on the other end of the farm. Right below the apartment I used to live in, actually! I decided I would settle in here, even if it's only temporary. Living in an in-between is worse than potentially packing boxes in a few weeks. And I looked forward to settling in and finally feeling at home again.

But then I kept getting tired. Again. And then I got sick! So some things have stayed in boxes, and other things are just not quite organized. And I was stuck in that cycle of looking around at all the "to-dos" and feeling incapable and exhausted. (To be fair, I was going through conflict with someone I love dearly, so that's where a lot of the sudden exhaustion for "no reason" was coming from.)

But the past few days I've started feeling better. My dishes have been consistently getting washed. My laundry has been getting folded and even put away!

And my pantry is disorganized and there's random stuff just sitting on my table....

Baby steps.

And while I wish I had the energy to reorganize the baking section of my pantry and clean off my table and wash my rugs and sweep and do everything else.... I'm pleased that I have clean dishes and clothes, and that they're not piling up and adding to the pressure. 

And then, today? I bought 3 cassette tapes to test the tape player that's built into the trailer. 😁

And I cobbled together the most lovely little dish set and got some teacups and saucers, since I'm going to give one of my dish sets to Hannah as a housewarming gift when she moves into the apartment. (We're going to be such close neighbors!)

Such cute teacups!!

There wasn't a full set of these blue floral dishes, so I mixed them with these solid blue ones.

My bounty!

And as I was winding down with a glass of kombucha before bed, (don't ask me why, but it works for me, despite the caffeine,) I looked over at my new dishes, and I noticed that I'm playing my cozy playlist for the first time in a little while. And I thought, I'm doing it again!

I am fighting to make a safe place for myself in a very big, exhausting, volatile world. I am investing heavily in the good and the beautiful. Not just investing my money, but my time. My mental, physical, emotional and even spiritual energy. I will continue to do my best. And I will continue to pick up the pieces of my life when they scatter and get away from me. I will put myself in a position to feel safe and secure and loved, so that I can reach out to the next person and honestly tell them that there is good in this world. Because I don't think I'm the only one who doubts and questions that. 

So I invite you; seek the good with all your might. That's where God is. He's with us in the dirty and the broken, but His character and His dream for us is revealed in the sweet and the safe and the strong. 

Brew a cup of tea or a pot of coffee and sit with yourself in a safe place and thank God for being there. Or just be grateful that you're here, investing a moment into something wholesome.

Build something as beautiful as you can out of broken pieces. And if you don't have the strength right now, come to me and I will invite you into my safe, cozy home. And we can have tea in my new little teacups and I will do my best to create a moment of beauty for you. I think everybody needs that sometimes. Or as often as possible, honestly.

Now that I've spent a really long time writing, I'm going to finish my kombucha and go to bed. I hope you have a good day/night, and that you get some time to rest yourself. Life can be exhausting.

-Dolly

Settling In

 Hello! I'm finally back at it again!

When I last left off, the trailer was basically a construction zone and I was incredibly overwhelmed.  Not in actuality, but in the blog post.

The housewarming/send-off party was lovely. My favorite friends and neighbors and family came and hung out, and saw a pretty clean, homey trailer. We ate snacks, and almost everyone painted a wooden handle to go on a cupboard or drawer. Mom kept track of who painted which one, and afterwards I labeled them all, and then Hannah and I sprayed sealant on them, and we installed them all because we were excited. 😁

All the lovely handles that people painted! And you can see a little bit of where Mom wrote the names of the artists on the paper underneath. These are from when we were sealing them, though, so they're not next to the correct names. 😅

After the party, Hannah and I sat and talked for a long time. I think it was sort of both of us preparing ourselves for what would happen in the next few days. It was so good to just sit and be, between all the chaos and stress and change. 

We were feeling pretty cute on my little green couch. 😊

It was a lovely and peaceful evening. Absolutely nourishing. 

And then chaos came again. Everything got packed up, to the best of our ability, so that it wouldn't all move and break on the upcoming voyage. And off we went! Hannah and I went in my car, with Izzy. I didn't have a cat carrier, so Izzy just sat herself under my seat, snuggled against my leg. (There was a scary moment in Redmond, I think, where she wanted to sit underneath the brake pedal instead. But otherwise things were pretty uneventful.)

Mom and Dad came in the pickup, towing the trailer, and bringing Bailey. Everything and everybody made it safely here!

Where is here?

Well, we parked the trailer at my Uncle Leland and his family's house outside of Mount Vernon, in the John Day Valley, in Grant County. We're by the Painted Hills and the Fossil Beds, if that helps anyone. It looks like this.

It's so pretty here! And there's actual sunshine sometimes!! 😁 I think there have only been a couple days I've been here, that have had the sort of darkness that's so prevalent in the Willamette Valley this time of year. So that's definitely a perk of being here. And it's also slightly the entire reason I gave when I pitched this idea to everyone involved.

When I got here, there were no water or electricity hookups for the trailer. There was, and still is, a ditch running through the area right next to the trailer, with water lines in it and such, but things weren't hooked up when I got here. So Dad and Uncle Leland ran a bunch of extension cords from an outbuilding, and I hauled water in a gallon jug. The first afternoon here, Dad and my cousin Dale installed insulation board all around the bottom of the trailer, and Dad unloaded the flooring we'd brought along. The next day, Mom and Dad and Hannah headed out, and here I stayed.

My first couple weeks here were really busy. On Saturday was cider making and a bonfire, Sunday was church, and then came settling in, and visiting people or going somewhere almost every day, it seemed. Somewhere in the middle of all this, my cousin Dale installed flooring in the trailer! There was juuust enough to do the whole thing in the same color. I made him a chai latte as payment. 

The flooring is definitely a lot nicer than the subfloor!!!

Dale, hard at work.

My beautiful, smooth, non-splintery, waterproof floor!!!

The payment for services rendered. 😁

Around the same time as Dale was putting flooring in, Uncle Leland got a backhoe and some conduit and got to work finalizing the water line.

A lot went into settling me in here, and I'm really grateful.

The first few weeks, I was having to fill a propane tank every 5ish days to keep the heat running, which was a lot of money and trips to the gas station. On Thanksgiving, sometime in the wee hours, I realized that the propane had run out, and the heat system was just pumping cold air from outside directly into the trailer! I turned off the "heat" and piled all my blankets onto the bed, and went back to sleep.

When I got up in the slightly later morning, and stepped outside, I was surprised to find it warmer outside the trailer than inside! The sun was probably starting to warm things up out there, but the effects hadn't spread to the trailer yet. Both areas were probably in freezing temperatures, though. I went into the house and sat by the wood stove until somebody woke up. Thankfully, it wasn't too long until my cousin Gabe came down to the living room, and I asked for his help. Turns out the trailer has a dual propane tank system, and it's super easy to turn off the empty tank and open the full one. So I've been dealing with that by myself ever since.

I wrote in the Smucker Family WhatsApp group that Thanksgiving morning, "I'm thankful for each and every one of my blankets! 😁😬"

After a few weeks of me burning a LOT of propane, Uncle Leland got out a really heavy-duty electrical cord that can handle more watts. This means that I'm now using a little electric heater, and the propane heat only kicks in if the temperature gets below whatever temperature I decide I don't want it to get below. 😁 This has saved me a lot of money, and it's greatly reduced my slight fears of running out of propane and freezing again. 

Trailer life has definitely been an interesting learning curve! Dealing with propane was really intimidating to me at first, but I've gotten pretty used to it. I still haven't been brave enough to try the propane oven, though! I think it would take some trial and error to find out how accurate the temperature settings are, and I don't want to deal with that here and now. 

Bailey and Izzy are both very settled in their little routines. In the mornings I get up and hang out with Izzy while Bailey sleeps in, then I let Izzy outside and Bailey wakes up and has her breakfast. After a little while, Izzy comes back in and they both nap in their comfy spots. They're not best friends, but they've definitely gotten used to coexisting in a small space. In fact, the first time I let Izzy go outside for awhile, Bailey was pretty anxious.

As far as life itself, over here? I think I've learned a lot so far. I'm not entirely what all of it might be yet, though. 😅 I do think I learned more of what it takes to integrate into a new community, how to relate to people who are different than I am in a lot of ways, and how to see more nuance in life in general. Most things aren't black and white. The world is a swirl of grays. And since being here, I've gotten a lot more comfortable with sitting in the grays, and letting them be confusing and messy and difficult sometimes. Since 2020 I've been trying to recover from the very "black and white" mentality that seemed to engulf so many people, including me. And I think I've definitely made some strides with that on the past couple of months here.

One of the most impactful things, if not the most impactful thing, that has happened here for me has been the babies. My Uncle Leland and Aunt Sandra are foster parents who currently have two little girls: a baby and a toddler. I can't post pictures of them, so you'll just have to imagine things. 

Before coming here, I had never picked up a baby. I had never fed a baby or changed a diaper or tried to reason with a stubborn toddler who can't talk back yet. I know how people often see me and my arms, so I never wanted to ask a mom to let me help with her fragile, little baby.  I wasn't confident I could do any of these things with safety or competence, and I never really had an opportunity to discover or develop any skills in that area. My plan was, if I ever get married, to just adopt slightly older toddlers at the youngest, that can already walk, and sort of circumvent the whole issue. 

BUT!

Aunt Sandra patiently showed me how to do some things, and watched as I tried to figure out other things. She made sure I was doing everything safely and competently. And now, when the baby starts fussing, I can say, "Is it time for a bottle, or should I check her diaper?" and whatever the answer is, I can deal with it. 

And the toddler hasn't been as intimidating as I assumed they generally are. She gets stubborn and opinionated sometimes, but she's so fun and funny! I have trouble holding in my laughter when she's being disobedient with a particular bit of sass, or when she makes faces or accidentally calls the friend I'm messaging. And she's starting to form sounds into words, which is so exciting! I'm okay with her being loud or having fits sometimes when she doesn't get her way. We all feel like that sometimes, she just feels things really loudly. 😁

Anyway, this part of life here has made me a lot more confident about dealing with babies and children in general. I feel like now I actually know a bit of what I'm physically capable of, which is a huge help. 

Other than that, I've just been doing life here. I've checked out a few churches in the area, and connected with friends and cousins that I had lost touch with, a bit. I'm really glad to have had this opportunity. I also feel like, with my fluctuating energy levels and being sick for a week, I haven't made as much connection here as I would've liked to. Yesterday I was at my honorary Aunt Reba's house and she said, "... You're leaving already; we were just getting used to having you here!"

I feel the same way, a bit. I'm heading home tomorrow, and it simultaneously feels like the right time, and way too soon. Especially when most of the ladies and girls around here are heading to a retreat this weekend, so goodbyes are a bit rushed. 

This morning I held the baby for what very well might be the last time. Changed the last diaper and fed her the last bottle I might ever give her. And that's pretty hard. I'm gonna miss both the little girls. I'm gonna miss the sunshine, and Ike the horse who asks me for carrots whenever I walk by. I'm gonna miss being just steps away from having cousins to talk to. I'm gonna miss exploring cultural differences and getting to reconnect with a whole little church community. I'm gonna miss Julie and Annie's piano playing, and talking to each of my cousins about what kind of lives they're working towards.

At the same time, I'm so excited to be close to my family again. I haven't seen my parents or Tristan or Hannah for awhile! And I'm looking forward to reconnecting with my church families 'back home'. I miss being with the people who have known me my whole life and whom I can be fully transparent and vulnerable with in the way that only comes from many years of relationship. I am SO EXCITED to have so many restaurants with totally different cuisines again, and I'm thrilled to be able to get boba whenever I "need" it. 😁 I'm looking forward to taking Bailey to "Grammy's House" in the evenings for family dinner, and to having cell service again.

It's a mixed bag. Just as I was settling in, I'm uprooting again. But that's just how things go sometimes, I guess. I really hope we all arrive at the next phase of things safely. 

-Dolly

Fixing Up!

 Well, here I sit, in Mount Vernon, Oregon. Almost 5 hours East of "home". Everyone is gone for prayer meeting and a birthday party for two people I don't know, so I have the house to myself for a bit. I've been here for almost 3 weeks, now! 

I haven't wanted to post about the trailer for awhile, which is probably made obvious by the fact that I haven't posted about the trailer for awhile. 😁 There were a few factors in this. One factor has been that I completely forgot what I last posted about it and so I didn't know where to start! And the other being that things kinda came down to the wire and got very stressful, and I didn't want to write about that.

But here I am! The stress of renovation is past, and I just read my last trailer update. So here goes!

The first thing that happened was painting! It was also one of the last things to happen. Since the trailer is such a small space, I thought painting would go relatively quickly. NOPE! The whole trailer is full of tight spaces and corners and awkward shapes. The entire thing was basically edging. Does it look great now? Absolutely! Was it worth it? Sure! Do I wish I had a fairy godmother who could've just done it all for me? Yep, for sure.

All my white paint swatches! It took awhile to find the perfect shade that has a little warmth, but doesn't look off-white.

We thought it was patterned white wallpaper board before.... definitely dingy compared to fresh paint!

You can really see the difference from the wallpaper to the paint, here.

Bailey made sure she was integral to the whole process. 😂

Hannah helped so many times until we got it all done.

Mom came in at the end and got a bunch of stuff done. She's a lifesaver.

So, painting ended up being stressful because of how long it took, and how physically taxing it was. I'm really grateful for all the help I got with that.

The next project to start was replacing the corduroy that was on panels on the cupboards. I popped the panels out, peeled off the corduroy, and painted the ones in the bedroom and kitchen. For the living area panels, Mom cut up a bulletin board for me, and I covered the pieces in burlap and attached them to the original wood panels like it was a backing. 

Painting the bedroom panels. I tried to pick cute things, but in soothing colors.

This is before we even painted the bedroom, and it already felt so much lighter and airier! You can go back to my first trailer post and see the difference.

These panels are in the kitchen! One is all fruit and one is all veggies, but they're both the exact same shades/colors.

Tadah! (I know they're not separated by scientific categories. They're separated by colloquial usage of the terms.)

These are the living area bulletin boards! I got the burlap at MECCA in Eugene, because I love the frog.

Once painting was pretty much done, I think I just moved in. At that point, Izzy (my cat) had been living in the apartment for a couple weeks to adjust to a life of confinement. When I moved in, there were only a couple weeks till I left for Eastern Oregon, and even less time till my going away party. Lots of issues came up, as they will with any renovation project.

The most noticable issue was flooring. We had the new flooring ready to go, and all the linoleum and gross carpet had been stripped back.

Cutting and peeling carpet was an absolute pain. In my back and knees, mostly.

It was pretty gross under there! Luckily no mold or mildew, just a lot of dirt and grime.

Dad had seen me laboriously cutting at the carpet in the bedroom and yanked it out! Which was great, but left a bunch of staples with tufts of carpet around the edges. And then the linoleum! I started pulling it up and could not cut it away from the edge where it was under the metal doorframe. So all the flooring stuff stalled. 

I moved in anyway. 

Again, Mom came to the rescue. She meticulously pulled out stapled tufts of carpet. She cut and peeled linoleum. We were all ready for flooring to be installed......

But things ran too late and I had to leave in two weeks and no flooring person could get it done in time. And we couldn't push back the moving date because Hannah had gotten time off work to come be my copilot and help me settle in. And the going-away party was in a week and a half, and I didn't want to call that off! And everyone was feeling the pressure. So I decided that I could live on plywood subfloor, and find someone to do the flooring once I got here. My uncle is a contractor, so I figured if he or my cousins couldn't do it, they'd know someone who could. So that was settled.

A less obvious problem was my bed. It raises up for storage. Which is very cool for me and Izzy both. 

Here you can see a cat-shaped blob enjoying her elevated view.

However! The mattress was extremely heavy and the old, hydraulic lifts/hinges didn't hold it up. We bought new hinges! They were too heavy-duty and preferred splintering the wood under the mattress, to compressing. So I spent almost half of the week before the going-away party with a mattress through the center of the trailer as Mom and Dad tried to solve this problem. 

It turned out to be unsolvable. 

Until Mom had the genius idea to replace the heavy mattress with a couple layers of foam! A bottom layer of very dense foam, and some softer stuff on top. If nothing else, this would make it much lighter weight, and therefore safer for me to lift the bed and prop it up. And lo and behold, the old hydraulic hinges held up the new foam mattress just fine! But I had just spent multiple days doing minimal moving and settling because the trailer was filled with mattress.

The next problem was the couch! (I feel like I'm starting to sense a pattern.....) It was originally mauve, patterned, fuzzy, rough upholstery fabric.

Bailey, looking adorable on a slightly ugly couch.

I wanted to cover it in denim or something. Preferably a fun, earthy color. The couch also doubles as a futon guest bed, and it was extremely worn down and uncomfortable, so it needed more padding. I got a foam mattress topper and some mossy green denim. The plan was to just lay the foam and then the fabric right over the existing stuff, and then staple the fabric to the backing. Mistake on my part? Yep! There's no backing. It's like an old, wire bedframe that folds up. And the existing fabric is sort-of wired on or something. So the reupholstery project also stalled. And the party was in a few days! And I was moving in a week! 

After thinking and stressing and worrying, I decided that we could just edge the denim, and I could sew it onto the original fabric around the back/underside of the couch. But there was no time. So I safety-pinned it on for the party so people could have a preview. It's still safety-pinned on right now. I haven't finished it yet. 😅

So, that was another issue, sidestepped. But all the dancing from side to side was really draining and stressful.  

All these adjustments to my expectations and life were happening while I was getting ready to host people and also while I was settling two animals into a new home and also while I was moving and also while I was planning to move again.

Somewhere in the middle of everything, Mom built me a pantry in the coat closet. I have no pictures yet, but it's gorgeous and she's amazing.

And Hannah came over and helped put in blue contact paper over the weird mirrors in the cupboard doors.

And she also helped put up vinyl backsplashes in both the bathroom and kitchen.  That's also the day the bed situation was resolved. Three days before the party.

Hannah and Mom coordinating on the kitchen backsplash.

Finally, the trailer was done being a construction zone!! But the construction zone is what this post is about. So if you want a nice, satisfying conclusion.... you'll have to read my next blog post! Whenever I get around to writing and posting it.... 😅

I'm not trying to end on a cliffhanger, or have such a negative post. I haven't even mentioned about Cornelius's emergency weekend at the vet (he's in good hands now with Auntie Dorcas, and he's totally fine.) Or how I felt about turning into such a negative person for a week or two. (I felt bad about it.)

It's just that this post is plenty long enough, and I'm done writing for now. I hope you enjoy the transformation pictures! And now you know why I went silent online like a month ago.

Thanks for reading, and for caring about my life!

-Dolly

High Tea

 Well, hello again! It's been less than a year since my last post, which is highly unusual activity for me. 😁

But I've been thinking about something, and I wanted to see what other people might think about it, too.

My best friend Hannah and I have been throwing tea parties since high school. When we were younger, we did them basically every season, during school breaks. As we've both gotten older, life has gotten fuller and more structured, so we're a little more limited on how often we can do them.

For us and for those in the know, our tea parties are an absolute event. We plan a themed menu, and the buildup involves planning that starts months in advance as we pick a theme of ingredients and decide on courses. Tea parties are always on a Saturday, in the early afternoon. The week leading up to Saturday is pretty centered around those few afternoon hours. We have a shopping day for ingredients, and often a day where we plan place settings and maybe practice more experimental recipes for people with diet restrictions, or for weird flavor combinations we're still debating. And then on Friday.... we bake. Including breaks, we're usually going for about 12 hours, from 10 to 10.

 

Blood Orange and fresh rosemary cookies with chocolate glaze.

On Saturday morning, I head back over to Hannah's house in my nice clothes, usually bringing my makeup along to be done whenever there's a spare moment. 

We set the table, deciding who will sit next to whom for the best flow of conversation. We usually each invite half the guests, and it's always fun to see people from different communities come together and have fun. We have my Mennonite cousins. We have our farmer neighbors. We have friends from church and town. And we have lots of tea and desserts.

A slice of blood-orange chocolate tart from Saturday.

While I usually set the table, with Hannah helping decide on key elements, she's usually doing any last finishing touches that are needed for food. Putting fruit on things, heating soups, boiling water for the tea, and a bunch of other little things. I pop in to consult on key elements. 😊 

Lemon bars and cupcakes from our 2020 outdoor quaran-tea-ne.

And then, usually, we sit for a few minutes after everything is ready. We breathe, we take selfies together and we take pictures of the table and food. And then, just about the time we're starting to get antsy and think about texting people to make sure they're coming.... the first guests arrive. If they're my guest, they probably get a very excited hug. If they're Hannah's guest, they get a warm and classy welcome that's much more fitting for the event. 😅 We make sure everyone knows they're welcome, and that there's no awkward standing around wondering where to go. Everyone is met before the door and welcomed to the table. Introductions are made at some point, usually once everyone arrives. 

"Welcome everyone! This is Alana. She is the youth director at church. This is my Aunt Bonnie who lives just down the road. This is our high school friend, Bekah. This is our neighbor, Krystle. This is Marissa, she became my brother's friend in college."

Then we announce the theme, explain what teas are in which pots, and bring out the first course, which is savory. Often tea sandwiches and soup, although we do switch things up. Once people are slowing down with that, we bring out the scones and cookies and fruit bars. (Think lemon bars, but with different fruit sometimes.) This is when the tea really starts to pour, and people settle in, and get to know whoever's sitting next to them.

"Those scones look so lovely, but I don't think I could fit a whole one. Would you like to split one with me?"

Our group from Saturday. Clockwise from left: Hannah, Auntie Dorcas, Emily, Alethalou, Alana, Marissa, Me, Ilex, and my mom Simone.

And then come the actual desserts. Usually we have a course that's meant to be lighter and a break from the more intense flavors. A posset custard, a mousse, a sorbet... The refresher course could come between heavy desserts, or after the entire meal, to round things off. Desserts almost always include cupcakes. At one point we discovered the concept of stuffed cupcakes, and since then we've really had fun! Our penultimate cupcakes are generally considered to be the caramel apple chai. Chai cupcakes stuffed with homemade apple pie filling from Hannah's lovely mother Vanessa, and then topped with caramel frosting. (When Hannah discovered a caramel frosting recipe, our lives changed. 😁) Desserts can also include other things that fit the theme. This past Saturday we had a blood orange and chocolate ganache tart, topped with fresh, local peaches, and berries we had picked a day or two prior. Once we asked Aunt Bonnie to make some lavender macarons for our lavender and lime tea. There's always something seasonal and fun.

A Christmas tablescape from an early tea. In the middle is my since deceased Christmas tree, Ferdinand.

And because this is me, and I ramble, we are just now getting to the point of this whole post. Everything you've read so far was just context, and maybe a little pride of accomplishment. I haven't even gone into how we choose what dishes will fit the theme and feel most special, or how I always forget who has allergies until after we invite them, and so we adjust the menu after it's all conceptualized, so they can participate. 😅

Anyway! 

We just had a tea party on Saturday. Chocolate and blood orange themed. We had a lovely set of guests, some first-timers and some regulars. 😊 Among the regulars was my Auntie Dorcas, who could definitely be considered 'Mennonite famous'. 

I don't know what it is, exactly, about the tea parties, but she's told me that they do something special for her. She feels really loved when we invite her.

So Auntie Dorcas posted on her social media about coming to the tea. And of course, a lot of people commented. 

"Did your daughters host this? What a proud mother you must be!" "How lovely! I would be these girls' new best friend for an invite!" "This makes me want to do something like this!"

But among the more prevalent types of comments, seemed to be those that assumed this is a commercial enterprise. And we've definitely heard before that we could charge money for tickets. In fact, it's something my mother mentions almost every time we do a tea. 😄 

But it still surprised me. It seems so obvious that we do this because we like having tea parties with our friends. We love the new recipes and our grandmothers' china sets and the fascinating conversations. That's not something we'd really be comfortable charging for. It's like asking your friends to pay at the door when they come over for coffee or dinner.

Some of the comments actually almost bothered me. 

It's not fair, and I know it. Everyone wants to feel special sometimes. I actually think it's a human need. And it's sad to see that so many people feel a lack there. It makes me wonder why, but I also think they might have given the answer themselves when they assumed that this is a business. 

No matter how perfect of a party it is, it might never be as fulfilling if you paid for it. I think there's something about receiving a personal invitation. About knowing that you, specifically, are wanted. And that you were worth all the effort that went into something.

I wish I could throw tea parties for everyone, and that might be why I'm a little frustrated. I can't do that. I'm soooo tired right now. It would take an actual staff to be able to do this regularly. And I honestly think that might take away the specialness of the whole thing. 

I don't think it's just the food that people crave. Or the lovely china or even the handwritten place cards. 

I think it's the special focus and attention. The absolute rest of not being in charge or having to figure out where to go and what to do. 

I think what we all need is true hospitality. And that doesn't come from hours of work and months of planning. It doesn't come from beautiful dishes and perfectly steeped tea, or from handwritten placecards and vintage tablecloths. It comes from one heart saying to another, "You are welcome and cared for here."

After I started writing this, I saw that Auntie Dorcas was replying to some of the comments. 

"...My new philosophy is that everyone who wishes they could have been there needs to throw a tea party of their own!"

And I think that's exactly it. Obviously I'm biased, but I would highly encourage you to throw a tea party. You could get out the fancy dishes you never use, or find a vintage set at a thrift store. You could make tea sandwiches and scones and cupcakes, or buy scones and macarons and madeleines. All you really need is a welcoming spirit and boiling-hot water for tea. 

Hannah and I have discovered that people will come to a tea party. We've invited lots of different kinds of people over the years, some of whom were only acquaintances before. But they came, and friendships and community followed. It can be hard to figure out how to begin a friendship with someone, but I will say this is one of the least awkward techniques I've ever tried. 😁 Our general rule is to invite a mix of old and new friends, and seat them next to each other so they get acquainted. You can do things however you want to, of course! These are just some tips and ideas for anyone who might be enamored with what you've read, or the pictures you've seen, but who might feel a little overwhelmed. 

If you do throw a tea party, I'd love to see it! Or if you have questions, feel free to reach out! Either in the comments here, or dm me on Instagram at unregularly_irreasonable. 😊

What do you think? Would you come to tea? What if you didn't know the hosts very well? 

Would you host a tea party? Would you invite old friends, or try to make new ones?

I guess what I'm really wondering is, what makes you feel special? What kind of hospitality speaks to you the most? And do you feel a need or an ability to provide that for yourself and others?

Thanks for reading. I'm really curious to see if other people have thoughts, because I'm sure I'm biased, so I want to hear other perspectives.

-Dolly

Just Moving

Why, hello again!

I never did a follow-up after that last post, huh?

Well, I got quite a bit of very sweet support, and only a couple suggestions. Both of which are/were for somewhat controversial and scientific/sociopolitical topics that I don't feel super qualified or safe to post publicly online! So I haven't written about them.

But! I now have something to write about, personally, so here I am!!!

 I'm planning to move! And then move some more. Basically, right now I'm getting started on fixing up my parents' travel trailer and making it pretty before I move in. 

It was actually my grandparents' trailer. I'm not sure how old it is, but my best friend did find a coupon in there that expired in 1997, sooo. . . it's probably a little old. It's in surprisingly good condition, all things considered. My grandparents used it to go down to LA for street meeting, which they would cook for. That was only an annual thing, and beyond that it was only occasionally used either for camping, or as a guest bedroom during family get-togethers. My parents have also been using it as an extra guest room, so I'm not exactly sure what they'll do from here on out.

This is what I'm starting with! The first thing I did was pull up the carpet in the living area. I also started taking out the panels in between the cupboard doors. They were covered in fuzzy, purple corduroy, which seems like a major allergen trap to me! Other plans include painting the walls white, adding vinyl flooring and a vinyl kitchen backsplash, and reupholstering the couch/futon guest bed. My friend, Hannah, also helped me take down the boxes that were over the windows, which really helped with lighting! I just want to put up simple curtains and blinds later. That way when they're open, I'll get as much natural lighting as possible.

I don't know if you can tell in the pictures, but the space is so much brighter already!

The next step, I think, is painting! I plan to buy some paint and primer in one, and do some swatch tests. If they don't go well, I'll have to save up for some gripper primer, which can be pretty expensive.

But for now I'm really enjoying just having a fun project I can always turn to. And I really appreciate having something to work on this summer while everyone else is occupied with harvest. It's always a really hard time of year for me, even though it's fun and exciting, because I can't really be involved anymore. (I haven't been kicked off the crew or anything, hahaha! It's just that driving in the same field all day can put me in a really dangerous mental space.)

Anyway, after all the fun renovation/redecorating is done, I plan to actually move into the trailer! I'm looking forward to a much smaller space and fewer things in it. I've just sort of realized that I'm not a healthy person, and I might never be one. Which stinks. But I want to put myself in the best possible position to cope. My biggest goal is to always be able to look around my home and be able to say, "With just a couple of good days, this could be back to how I want it to be." When I'm not doing well, I just sort of survive. Eating is my main priority, and everything else piles up around me. I want to have few enough things that even if almost all of them were in piles on the counters/table/floors/foot of the bed, I could still see a way to crawl out of that situation. Because at some point, that's always the situation I end up with. I'm not entirely sure why God lets me be this annoyingly weak and sensitive, but I do know that having too many possessions gets in my way when I feel like maybe He does have something for me to do.

Beyond just a change in lifestyle, There will hopefully also be some changes in location! The idea is that I'll stay with my uncle's family in Eastern Oregon for a little while over the winter. I'm curious to see if a change in weather/climate will affect me in any significant or positive way. Whether it does or not, I'm really looking forward to spending a lot more time with my cousins! We have some differences in our approaches to life and faith, but we share a lot of familial values, and I really respect my uncle and aunt and their family. I think they're selfless and hospitable, and they live what they believe.

So, those are my big, exciting plans! And also the slightly rambling explanation for them. 

At some point I wanna have a mini housewarming-type thing. Not like a huge deal, but a fun little get-together to celebrate a new adventure. I want to put in new cupboard and drawer handles, and I love the idea of having my friends and family paint them all! That way I get some fun, colorful, hand-painted things; but also I get to take a bit of community with me when I'm away. Also, I need advice about living in a trailer, cause I have no experience with that! I've already had some fantastic help and advice for the renovation plans, which I'm super grateful for! But I'm also thinking that gathering some people in-person, and letting them look around, might be good opportunity to pick some brains about this specific trailer situation. Also! A lot of the household items I've been using (pots, pans, brooms, etc.) were already in the apartment when I got there, so they don't belong to me. If anyone is planning to donate or get rid of stuff like that, feel free to let me pick through it, if you'd like! Or not. I won't take it personally if you'd rather avoid the hassle of me showing up on your porch and going through your donation boxes before you take them in, like I did at my Auntie Dorcas's the other day, hahaha!

I think that's all the news for now! This will probably become a trailer renovation blog for a bit, since that's what's on my mind more than anything else I would potentially write about. Thanks for reading!

~Dolly

Soon to be: Home, Sweet Home

Moving Forward?

 Hi, it's been awhile.

Obviously, with such a long break, there's a lot I could tell you about. I don't really know where or how to start, so I'll try to do a quick recap and then tell you how I'm currently doing.

Some of you may have gotten my 2020 Christmas letter. If you did, you know that 2020 was the best year I'd had in a long time. I finally ended up with some medication that helped me, and I felt, for the first time in many years, that I could get up every day and actually do the things I wanted to do. And I did a lot, for me.

I survived a falling out with a very close and dear friend, and drew healthy boundaries for myself moving forward in that relationship.

I stocked my fridge with drinks and spent the summer shuttling them to harvest workers on our farm.

I painted signs for a very local campground. 

I organized socially-distant Christmas caroling to relatives and neighbors.

I had a relatively clean house, and worked on organizing my pantry and kitchen, as well as having 2 friends/relatives help me paint the living area of the apartment.

I found a new therapist and started therapy again.

I worked through a lot of beliefs about injustice and false information and understanding different groups of people. 

I actually did things, and I wrote a Christmas letter about how happy I was to be able to actually do things, and then... I dunno. End of December, I just hit a wall.

Heads-up, the rest of this post is not really positive in tone, and if you need to avoid that, I totally understand. Honestly, same. If you want, you can skip to the bolded part at the end. You don't have to, but I'd consider it a personal favor. 😁

Anyway, around the end of December I started talking about how tired I was. I figured it was just the aftershock of a very complicated and emotionally intense year. 

And then I was feeling really off in January. I thought it was a reaction to something, and tried to figure out what was happening. I tried taking my medication at different times, and drinking coffee, eating more food, drinking more water, etc., but things didn't improve. I started being consistently dizzy, having a foggy mind, being clumsy and forgetful, getting consistent stomachaches and head pounding. I found out some of these things could be side effects of my medication.

I went to my doctor, and she agreed that I seemed to be reacting to my medication. We tried swapping out part of the doses for something else, and things went drastically downhill. In addition to the other symptoms, I started feeling weak in my hands and legs, only able to move for a few minutes at a time in between hours of napping. I lost all appetite, and wasn't eating enough to take almost any medication at all. And the symptoms persisted, so it probably wasn't a reaction?

Back to the doctor's with more questions. Back to my old meds, being extra careful to only take them after eating at least one full meal. Things started to lighten. It's been a slow process to eating more consistently, and being able to actually take medication, etc.

And here we are now. I don't think I'm reacting to any medications right now. I'm not feeling super weak or dizzy anymore. Just consistently heavy and tired, and small things exhaust me. I occasionally get a few days where I'll have some little bits of almost-manic energy in between slightly shorter naps, and then it's back to just sleeping and trying to take care of my animals and make sure I get enough to eat. Tonight I realized I should probably try to stay hydrated, too.

For the most part, I'm making things work. Imperfect Foods fits my grocery budget, so I'm getting that right now. Cooking is hard, though. 

I ask other people to help me, a lot. I try to pick the things that I genuinely need, and that won't be a big drain on others. Everyone knows that any plans with me are subject to change. My best friend can tell how I'm doing based on how much I can actually text her. (Sometimes I just don't have the physical energy to lift my hand/phone to text, or the emotional energy to carry on a conversation.)

Some things are extra hard, like Bailey's rabies shot that's coming up. I had to find someone to drive with me, to make sure I'll be safe, and to maybe take over the driving if my brain or body gives out. It's a lot to ask, especially when my family is busy because my great-uncle just died. I'm not going to the funeral, because I have no energy. So I asked my best friend to give up part of her spring break in a few weeks to help me take Bailey to the vet. 

I dunno, I'm just discouraged right now. I was just starting to think that maybe someday I can be more self-sufficient. And then it all disappeared, again.

I don't know what's wrong, although I have some theories to try. At least I can feel like I'm doing something about this, for now. I don't know if anything will help. I don't know if this is just the next thorn in my side and there's something else in me that needs to change or be broken away. It's hard to think like that, because I try so hard to believe that God cares about me intrinsically, not just about what I can produce. I want to question if God is intentionally putting me through multiple years of internal hell, multiple times, just to get a better product to use. I don't think He wants me to suffer, it's just part of life. But it's hard to believe that it doesn't have to be this way, I don't have to be sick, God could heal me... and then to still be unwell and non-functional.

I do still believe God is good, and He's doing something that's good for me. Maybe He is working on healing me, and it's just not what I expect. I choose not to believe that I'm going through this for the sole purpose of blessing someone else. Maybe that's selfish, but I refuse to believe that God would prioritize all His children except me, if that makes sense. I believe He cares about my intrinsic well-being, not just how much use He can get out of me. 

Maybe I need to not fight it. I mean, I would be willing to go through anything if it means others can know God and let Him heal them. At least, I want to be able to do that. That's what Jesus did for me. I just don't see it yet, and it's hard to believe God is using me, or is gonna use me, when I don't even have to energy to text the people closest to me. How in the world could I ever do anything that could help anyone, without things changing? And I don't know that they will. I don't know what God's gonna do, and I don't want to presume that I know His plan, or how it should go.

Anyway, that got pretty rambling. 

To sum up: I don't know what God's will for me is. I'm scared to miss it because I'm incapable of doing.... literally anything. But I only got a year's reprieve from one problem before having another one that incapacitates me, so I don't know if God ever wants me to be a functional human being. And if that's the case, what in the world does He want???

I have no clue.

If you did read all this, thank you. I mostly wrote it to try to stop internalizing some of these thoughts, so I know it probably wasn't a really fun read.

Resume reading here, if you skipped the negative stuff! 

I'm thinking of trying to get back into writing blog posts again, just to have an outlet and something to do. I'm really discouraged of feeling like I have absolutely no purpose. If you have any topics that generally interest you, I would love to research and write about them. If there's something you're curious about, and you don't have the time to look into it, let me know. I have nothing but time, and I love to discover things, whether it be people from history, theological topics, theories about random things, old literature... I just love finding out about stuff, so suggestions are very welcome! If you have more personal questions, about myself or more advice-style, those are welcome, too. I just don't wanna be narcissistic, or pretend to be an expert at life, lol.

I think that's all for now. Thanks, again, for reading.

~Dolly

Let's Talk Politics

If anyone is feeling nervous because this might be polarizing and offensive, don't worry. I'll try to avoid voicing any beliefs that may be open to controversy. At least, I don't think they should be controversial.

If anyone is chomping at the bit to hear my libtard views and knock me down a peg because I am young and female, and therefore ignorant, prepare to be disappointed. But I do invite you to read further, because I'm about to talk about someone with potentially similar views to yours!

This post is more about conversing about politics and social values, than it is about my own beliefs on either of those issues.

Two things are inspiring me right now.

The first is that Someone deleted my Facebook comment, which prompted quite a few emotions in me, and also some soul-searching. This person had posted a meme stating that "If you need to put a color in front of [the phrase 'lives matter', You're] racist."

That post effectively calls me racist, because I do believe that we need to specify race when fighting racism. Another friend commented on this post with the story of the Good Samaritan, challenging the meme's broad generalization. (I.e. Jesus specifically mentioned the race of the Samaritan man, to challenge Jewish prejudice of the time. Is Jesus racist for this?)

I commented, "I can see where you're coming from, but I'd love to talk to you about why I disagree. When's the next time you'll be in the area?"

All these comments were deleted. I am still unsure why my comment was deleted, and would like to talk to the person in question, but I doubt it would go well.

This incident brought up multiple quandaries for me.

My Indignation wants to tag this person in a Facebook post and label them a cowardly hypocrite, for complaining that their voice is silenced by "liberal media", and then silencing others. I am particularly incensed because I did my best to be gracious in my comment and also to remain nonthreatening.

The Patience in me wants to talk to this person. Or tag them in a less incendiary post.

The Justice within me demands I do something to counteract a hurtful voice in this time of upheaval and pain.

The Guard on my Heart believes this is a useless endeavor, and could bring me hurt/harm.

I'm caught within a web of my own values and beliefs. So I think, "What did Jesus do when he met people like this? People who take His Father's Name but choose to be narrow-minded and hurtful?"

"Should I follow His example?"

I remember Him flipping tables, boldly calling people snakes, chasing people with a whip. I remember Him challenging misplaced ideals and false pretenses. (Oh, how I love Him.)

The thing that stops me is that I know it's useless in this situation, with this person. I know it might cause me too much stress.

Jesus called the pharisees snakes until they killed Him. It was pointless, and painful.

I don't know if I can do that, though. I don't know if I'm called to do that. I'm not God. I can't carry everything. So, I write a blog post without mentioning this person's name, and debate whether I should talk to them in-person, or online, or not at all.

The second thing inspiring me, is this: my dad and I went to an anti-racism prayer/worship/discussion night by One Hope Eugene. On the way home, we discussed the concept of defunding the police, the actual real and potential effects, and our views on these topics. I wasn't sure how the conversation went, since it seemed a bit like we were both talking and not necessarily understanding.

The next day, my dad took some time out of his crazy, harvest work-schedule, and came to my apartment to tell me that it's a really good thing that I can empathize with other people and causes (in this case BLM and the reasoning behind defunding the police). We discussed our views a little bit more, and then he left.

I appreciated this so much. I've noticed him making a point of it lately, in fact. If we're getting into a discussion where we don't agree completely, he notices when I start getting passionate or worked up about my point. And (I'm guessing) because he knows that I usually get worked up when I feel like I'm defending someone, he will deescalate things by affirming my values and/or motives.

I want to learn to do the same.

I'm working on it.

The issue for me comes up in situations like my first experience. What are this person's values and motives? I can detect nothing positive whatsoever. So do I try to talk to them and see if I can understand their feelings? Do I challenge them, because they could be spreading harm? Or, do I write them off as a lost cause, at least, as far as my influence can reach?

I have no clue.

What I do know is this:

If someone wants to get into a political debate with me, they need to name 3 positive things about whatever they're arguing against. Every cause, political party, and movement, etc. has multiple sides, and it's pointless for me to try to see your side if you refuse to acknowledge anyone else's experience or priorities. (However, I don't know how/if this would apply if I'm the one seeking conversation.)

If I don't know enough about a topic, I ask questions, and then I do independent research. Especially if I don't have a great feeling about what I'm hearing.

If someone dismisses me as a person, or dismisses the idea of having conversation, they no longer fit in the "Good Person" category, for me. Maybe this is judgmental, but it’s because I think open discussions are key to progress. Being incendiary/dogmatic, and not hearing anyone else out, is pointless and rude. Especially when you're referring to people that are angry and hurt, you need to be gentle. "The bruised reed He will not break," you know?

I think also that I try really hard to absorb information and hear other people's stories. I place so much importance on this, that I can't fathom any good person believing differently about it. Doesn't mean I'm right, but this is definitely how I feel: Being a good person involves openness, growth, listening, and changing.

Hopefully I'm not coming off as challenging people just for the fun of it. Or as narrow-minded or overly harsh. I do think that injustice, prejudice, and stubborn hurtfulness need to be challenged. Especially when they are taking on the guise of faith and righteousness. Somehow that needs to be balanced with a recognition that I'm also flawed, and often wrong.

However, I do wanna clarify that challenging someone's views is not an aggressive thing, to me. In fact, it looks like my deleted Facebook comment.

"I see your perspective, but mine is different. When would it work for me to tell you how I feel about this, and why I think it's important?"

In This Time

I feel guilty for wanting relief from the heaviness in my heart, when so many people have been living under the weight of injustice simply because they exist- simply because others can choose to be evil.

I feel angry at the lies and misinformation I was fed as a child. "Black Lives Matter is racist." "Protesting for rights is just an excuse for violence." "Anti-white racism is a more pressing matter at this point." "Police brutality is not an issue of racism. Systemic racism doesn't exist anymore." I am angry I did not investigate all these things for myself earlier, and that I did not express myself more strongly when I first started realizing they were not true.

I am frustrated at my inability to do more. I feel powerless, and not just powerless as an individual. I feel like this problem is so big and deep and subversive that even all of us together will still be overcome and unheard.

I feel wrath. May God's wrath pour out on this country and all the people who hang on to evil and hurtful ideals, and also those who choose to ignore the voices of the oppressed, particularly when those voices are so accessible.

I feel extreme anxiety. Tension. Conflict. Anxiety that has prevented me from calling. Anxiety that has prevented me from researching and speaking out. Anxiety that has prevented me from marching.

I feel grief that my anxiety has stopped me from doing what I believe. I feel grief that others may be doing the same thing.

I feel pressured to force my anxiety to stand down, and I feel compelled to do something. Almost anything.

I feel insecurity. I don't know that my voice is welcome in the middle of everything. There are voices that matter much more- voices that actually know what they're talking about. Please look for those voices- reading this does not mean you are aware or justified. Writing this does not justify my inactions and prior beliefs. It does not justify my leaving others to believe harmful lies unchallenged.

I repent before God and whoever might read this.

What now?



I don't know how much of this post is ok, and how much it shows my lack of awareness. I hope I haven't said anything here to hurt anyone. I'm sorry for writing about myself right now; I just don't feel really qualified to give information about anything else. I don't want to post anything incorrect for others to read, particularly considering the right-wing community I grew up in. I don't want to give anyone any more ammunition in their wrongness.

Here

I posted this on my art Instagram. And then I wanted to write a little bit. So I posted on my personal account. And now I'm posting here because I want to.

I have started taking some medicine that's really been helping my brain. Like, I can feel that it's finally getting something that it needs to function. As a result, I can function. In the 2-3 weeks since I've started, I have had probably at least 4 mostly happy days. It's a record!

I've been bored. BORED. Not exhausted, BORED! It's such a good feeling to be like, "I'm bored. What if I go for a walk or wash dishes?" Instead of, "I'm bored and tired and my stomach hurts from anxiety and I feel like a worthless person because depression makes me too tired to move, and anxiety is too overwhelmed to even let me decide what to wear today."

So yesterday, when I found my favorite coffee shop extremely crowded, and my best friend had never been there before, and it was loud and overwhelming and stranger-children were standing 2 feet away and staring at my arms... and I still felt ok, and I was fully enjoying my coffee and the company of a friend and reading the dust cover on a book I found... I had to capture the moment.

"I'm pretty much just glad to be here."