Having Pride

 June is ending. Soon all the corporate logos will be back to their monochromatic normalcy and the world will be a little less rainbow.

I remember when I first realized gay people exist. I don't know how old I was, but the panic over the "gay agenda" was going around church. I remember the pastor talking about it in youth group. And I remember, before I was old enough that adults felt the need to talk to me about these things, being uncomfortable. I remember watching Worst Cooks in America, online, and there was a gay man competing. And of course, they had the episode where the contestants' families visit, and this man's partner came. And I remember wanting to close my eyes because I was very uncomfortable, but I thought that would be wrong. Because even as a kid, I realized that some people are just gay, and it's not okay to be uncomfortable with who people are. So I made myself not turn away when those two men kissed, and I kept making the choice to not look away when I saw homosexual people in media. And after a little while, I wasn't so uncomfortable. 

Obviously that's a very childlike and simplistic perspective. I'm not saying I did things right. I had no clue about the very broad spectrum of gender identity and sexual orientation. But I am proud of my childhood self for at least knowing that it's not okay to fear people.

It was a start.

A few years later, the topic came into my life again in a very personal way. People I love and grew up with, started realizing they're not straight and/or cisgender.

Once again, I was scared. But this time I wasn't scared of a progressive agenda. I was scared for my friends and how others would treat them. I was particularly nervous about church. My family's church had a course about the "issue," which I did not participate in. Everything was very confusing, and everybody seemed to be in a different place on the "issue" and loving people seemed secondary. The conversation was rarely, "How do we as a church reach out and love the hurting and repent to the broken?" it was, "Is being gay an abomination, or just a 'normal sin '?" "Is attraction a sin, or is just a relationship sinful?" "Is any of it a sin at all, or has the Bible been taken out of context for decades?"

Everything was very confusing, and experts, who seemed very qualified, were all over the map on what the Bible actually says and what God actually wants. 

Things were contentious. 

They still are.

Most Christians I know would consider homosexuality, being transgender, etc., as sins. At the same time, a lot of them are loving people who wouldn't/don't otherwise discriminate against others who do happen to identify with one or more letters in the LGBTQIA+ acronym.

And I've found my own position on all these things, which has brought me more emotional and spiritual stability.

All of this said, I've slightly taken for granted, in the past couple of years, that society and the church have been making progress. That we're moving beyond, "Are people sinning?" and on to, "Am I loving?"

And then.

I went with my brother Tristan to my first pride event last weekend. It was absolutely lovely. The whole thing was at a waterfront park in Bend, with live music and lots of booths by nonprofits and advocacy groups and vendors and even churches. Tristan's outfit and Bailey's existence were big hits. They both got many compliments. 😊

I'm really glad I went. 

But I've also felt heavy ever since.

While we were there, there was a protest on the outskirts of the event. A group of "Christians" carrying a sign that said "God does NOT love you as you are!"

My barometer for when a situation is spiritually unhealthy, is when I feel a need to stand up and preach. And wow, I still feel like preaching at people about it. I guess that's why I'm writing. There are so many things I wish I could say. Scriptures, especially. 

Nothing, not any created thing can separate us from God's love.

The greatest expression of love is sacrificing your life, which Jesus did for all of us when we were absolutely undeserving.

He loves us as we are.

No qualifiers to that statement. No ifs, ands, or buts. If God can love me, He definitely loves you. 

I have so many emotions that I don't think I can express myself well. 

If you care about someone's soul, you tell them there is hope.

If you truly receive God's love, you know it's freely available to others.

If you say you love God, but you don't extend love to others, you don't love God. 

All the things these people were expressing, are things that Jesus would call them snakes for. He would say they're being self-righteous and rejecting the very God whose Name they use to perpetuate condemnation.

At least, that's what He told the rule-following believers of His day.

And I wish I was brave enough to say these things to these people's faces. But there was mockery on both sides of the fence, and I saw myself on both sides, and I teared up and walked away.

I wish I could've said, "That sign you're holding is the abomination; not any of the people it's directed towards."

But I didn't, and now I sit at home and feel heavy with all the words and feelings I didn't feel safe to express in the moment.

On the flip side, I still have pride. I'm proud of myself for reaching past another cultural barrier that made me nervous and uncomfortable, and going to pride. And just like my childhood decision to sit with my discomfort until I wasn't scared of people who are different from me, it was so worth it.

I'm also proud of everyone else at the event. I'm proud of the churches that put themselves out there as a safe place. Of everyone who dressed up to express themselves freely. Of the musicians that poured out their pain and their hope and determination onstage. I'm proud of the person who had two lesbian bearded dragons and painted their nails rainbow and was excited to let us pet them. 

Multiple people at the event thanked me for rescuing/adopting Bailey. That's never happened to me before. And it makes me think, how many people have traumatic experiences that they need(ed) rescuing from, for things they can't change? And how could I help? And why won't the broader church help?

I don't understand why it's all so complicated. Am I loving God? Am I loving everyone, including the most unaccepted people around me? If I am doing those two things, I can claim to be a follower of Christ. If I'm not doing both those things, I don't think I can say that I'm truly doing what God wants. There's a lot of craziness and nuance and dichotomy in life, but I truly believe that's what it all boils down to. 

I don't feel so heavy now, so I guess I've written what I needed to write. I don't know if it's what you needed to read, but here we are.

Pride is a mixed bag for a lot of people. One of the musicians called it "Queer Grieving Month" I think. It's a time to reckon with and accept who you are, but also a time that can remind people... that not everyone else will accept them. The subject of identity is firmly in the forefront, and that can be both validating and painful.

Even for me, as an ace person who can very easily just live my life as a "good Christian girl," it's a conflicting time. What happens if I get married? Is that even a possibility? What do I even want a potential relationship to look like?

I don't know. 

I don't have answers for myself, let alone anyone else.

So, while I bumble along and do my best, I will hang onto what I know to be true of God. I desperately love Him for it all. And I will continue to try to extend love to everyone around me.

That's all I know. 

And I hope other people will extend the same courtesy to me. Because this is a difficult world and people can be cruel and uncaring.

Thanks for reading. Happy Pride! And may we all continue to seek God, accept ourselves, and love others for who they are. Even when it's not Pride Month.

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