Colour Me Happy

she wants to love.

She arrived at summer's doorstep only a couple week's ago, filling my heart with a happiness I didn't know I was lacking.  I'm certain she was a product of learning my love languages + completing a strenuous semester + shifting stress levels downward (in a big way) + breathing more fresh air + feeling sunshine.  Through her eyes, I saw Dave more clearly and was overcome by a greater capacity to love.  Love him.  Love myself.  Love my life. 

~

As the honeymoon phase of summer's commencement fades, so does this new face I've come to love; and realities and agendas begin to flood into the tranquil valley I had started to cultivate: taking the GRE, editing poetry for grandma, knitting baby blankets, finding a part-time job, finishing a three week course, paying off summer tuition and medical bills...when all I really yearn for is travel and to play outside.  Amidst all this, I also hope to squeeze out a little courage and pursue/nurture a tiny seed I've carried for a long time now.  Summer is supposed to be a breeze, and somehow I am managing to be overwhelmed by these gusts.

Like bumbling hands trying to grip sand, I've grappled to keep this kind, loving, and assured sense of self.  Over the last couple days, I've pendulum-ed a lot between moments of utter breakdowns to clicking into place.  Notice the house isn't on my list of agendas.  We're finding a nice balance between living simply + creating our home space.  A huge part of this has been letting go of style and design blogs (and un-subscribing from bloggers who are talking about their home design projects way too much).  Quieting this online presence has left space to simply see our own home with fresh eyes and ask what we truly want/need from this space.  An inviting space for reading and chatting in the evenings?  A space for creativity and meditation?  Do we need a dozen houseplants if we emerse ourselves in the outdoors - in nature - every day?  We don't have to live in a sterile, minimalist house - we even plan to throw a few more bright colors on the walls - but living simply truly does leave room for the greater parts of life.

Like sunshine and adventure.

Like health and happiness.

Currently, I am simply trying to get back to basics.  Eating habits, exercise, yoga, climbing, morning routines...had all become off kilter or non-existent, and I've turned to a naturopathic doctor to help me reach balance again.  They may seem small in the scheme of what I'm experiencing right now, but I suspect this is my ego playing it up.  I have a feeling - a very hopeful feeling - starting small is the way.  Breathe, deep breaths and often.  Move my body.  Nourish it.  Continue with large doses of sunshine every day.

It's a process, one I am experiencing right now.  In this moment.  There is only so much I can control, and I'm throwing my arms up in good faith to the rest -- sending my intentions out into the universe -- and hoping at least some fall into place.  I'm certain this would be much more difficult without Dave.  He's a rock.  I worry I often abuse his solidity and foundation on my return to the life of a frazzled, broke college student.

But here I am: a little broken, more than frustrated...but smiling somehow.  I caught glimpse of a beautiful girl and her feminine potential.  She touched me, and I touched her, and she just wants to be Love.

sense of adventure / jacks canyon.

No presents.  No parties.  He only wants a camping trip: a no-logistics-on-his-part foray into the wild à la me.  Celebrating his birthday each year with blossoming cacti and warming temperatures is easily rising to the top of our favorite memories and adventures.  

I have wanted to share our recent camping trip for over a week, but I can't help but question if I can do it in the way I want to share it.  Can I tell you what it is I love about each adventure we take?  Why they are important?  How I thrive every time we are in the wild, connecting with the earth and deeper parts of myself?  How it renews me and is like hitting a reset button?  When I try, the words fall short.   More than any other motive, I'd love for this blog to coax you out the door.  I am certain our connections with nature go a long way in improving not only our sense of "environmental responsibility" but our common decencies and everyday interactions as well.  I suspect in order for my hazy intentions to come into focus, I need to allow them to develop here; which means just going for it and letting it evolve in the process.  This blog is part of the process; and I'm just going to throw myself into it by sharing our adventures in the way they are flowing now. 

So...this is Jacks Canyon.

Mornings at camp were pieced together by bits of lulling interspersed between moments of readying and gathering.  The rustling of zippers intermingled with the cracking of eggs and crinkling of paper bags.  The melodic hum of camp broken up only by a particularly throaty bird call. We topped off our packs with snacks and drinking water while the paper bags dripped peppery bacon fat onto hot coals with a muffled hiss and occasional pop.

By mid-morning, we made our way down into the canyon. The sun was already beating hard against our backs as we approached the first wall. Our palms tingled. Often, we are driven by an intensity to climb everything or peak at a "new best" (grade); but this trip,we allowed ourselves to simply be pulled toward beckoning routes.  At one point, I sat quietly for several minutes scanning a beautiful line: a thin crack climbing a shaded corner.  It narrowed to only finger width by the second bolt, a somewhat heady sequence, but I was set on trying it.  Between the first and second bolts, I hesitated...started shaking...questioned my resolve on doing this particular climb.  After several moments of this, I finally took a deep breath, committed to pulling in this tiny crack, and managed a clean lead.

By late afternoon, the tender tips of our fingers and toes led us back to camp. Unfolding the Thailand mat, I sprawled into the layers of sun rays weaving into its fibers. I was drowsy in the sunlight but too content in the moment to sleep. As the sun crept lower, I longed for the blue Mexican blanket folded neatly over my reading chair and the book left on the floor of our bedroom.

When the chill was finally too much and our stomachs grumbled, we struck a match and waited to coax coals out from under the flames.  Their steaming glow perfect for roasting hot dogs. Before wrapping them in butter lettuce, we smothered their gently-charred skins in a fennel-spiced sauerkraut and mustard made from scratch. We sat for hours, dodging smoke while flickering flames and twinkling stars hypnotized our heavy eyelids.

This is where I experience living. The pieces of the world dissolve into a clear stream of conscious intentions. Life makes sense. Puzzle pieces of the everyday innately fit or are discarded for their superfluous edges and in-continuity with the big picture. The big picture is obvious here.

Here I breathe and love and expand into this space.

 

**all photos taken & edited with my iPhone.

senses / april love.

feeling: the morning air is crisp and intimate.  It seeps through my collar bones, wrapping itself around my ribs.  The coolness brushes over my cheeks, painting them an intense flush of red.  The smell is of dirt and newly forming leaves; the freshness feeds my lungs.  I am acquiring a modest collection of thin, yet cozy, sweaters.  Pulling their soft fibers over my head and across my skin not necessarily to counter these cool mornings but to embrace them.  To feel the cool hand of dawn before she gives way to warmer afternoons, when I peel the sweaters away to feel the sun's rays on my skin.  This is my April Love.

I can't help but somewhat detest the "monthly love" or wish lists bloggers pull together: the collages of stuff, the need for more, the encouragment of readers to click through>>consume, the "pinterestified" waste of hours spent scouring the online world for more, for better, for perfection...  We don't need more to lead full lives.

So here are a couple other current loves: things (yes, you will find stuff on this list) and experiences already filling my life.  They are elevating April, and - at times - getting me through a rough day here and there.  It's a reminder to myself: a beautiful cutting board, the clever iPhone case, the tilt-shift toy camera...however fun, won't complete me; my life is already pretty darn full.

hearing: Whether new finds play in the background while we prepare dinner or unshakable lyrics are sung as we ready for the day, music is fairly constant in our house.  Les Mis has been stuck in our brains for weeks, but the lovely soundtrack melodies from The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Henry Ford is my current favorite.

 

07 What Must Be Done

 

walking: Dave has been making a point of joining us on quick rambles through the neighborhoods or bordering woods in the mornings.  A top favorite part of my day.  Easily.  Means the world. 

reading: I've known all semester my Kinesiology textbook was waiting patiently to become a favorite.  I've finally made time to really pour over it, and I'm not selling this one back.

functioning: the few minutes it takes to mobilize soft tissue with my foam roller or mobility balls makes all the difference.  Countering daily posture and strenuous activities is worth this small effort.  Daily.  Make this daily. 

doing: weeknight activities - wine tasting, reading in bed, cooking dinner together, climbing - however small, all elevate my life more than anything else right now. Our Hulu shows are still fun; but moving our bodies or engaging our minds together...makes life worth living.

spring.

There is a deep sense of excitement within me. I do not know what it is or from where it comes.  Silhouettes of hope.  Like passions stirring or confidence shifting. Awakening. Acknowledging. 
Flowering reminders of what is and what is not. Priorities, nonsense, niceties, essence...a greater sense of clarity settling in the dust of the everyday. 

Yesterday's rain seemed sullen and bleak; but as it poured itself out, it left behind an awareness and strength I am holding fast to.

a quick post / diy natural dye easter eggs + extra ideas.

{{See end of post for updated dyes/colors.}}

I meant to finish dyeing eggs early in the week to share a couple "new" ideas with you.  It just didn't happen, and I'd rather get outside and play today.  Quite frankly, I'm disappointed by the turn of our outdoor adventures today - I was looking forward to "getting away" - but at least we'll still be playing outside. 

Before we head out, I thought I'd share the three eggs I did dye.  The idea that didn't work.  And what else I'd planned to experiment with if I'd had the time and "supplies" (or foodstuffs) this week.  Maybe I'll play with more eggs Sunday morning...because I didn't even come out with the colors my niece and nephew requested.  For last year's dye jobs (there were 11), safety concerns over artificial dyes, and somewhat more thorough details, see this post.

The "dyes" below were simply made by steeping loose hibiscus (1 T), turmeric powder (1 T), and green tea (5 tea bags) separately in 1.5 - 2 cups of near-boiling water from a kettle for at least an hour.  I strained out the hibiscus and green tea; forgot to add 1 T of vinegar (it still worked well) to the dye water, and soaked white, hard boiled eggs overnight.  Because I didn't boil out or strain the turmeric powder, the egg was left with a thin powdery layer after soaking.  Once the egg dried, I simply wiped the powder away.

Turmeric creates my favorite yellow egg.  Hibiscus transforms to a lovely deep turquoise.  Green tea leaves sporadic swirls of yellowish-tan.

Muddled fruit was the idea that did not work.  I mashed frozen raspberries and added near-boiling water for an hour like the others.  The egg did turn a wonderful shade of pink, but it was only due to a film covering the shell.  Wiping the film away, left the egg white.

I wanted blue and green eggs.  I'd planned to boil purple cabbage to make blue dye.  For green, I'm hopeful matcha powder will work as well as the turmeric powder does.  I'd also planned to try layering blue from cabbage and yellow from turmeric (two separate dunks) to create a green egg.

As for a pink or red egg...I just remembered frozen, red beet puree I have on hand.  Boiling this in water should yield a red or pink dye.

One more sweet idea from Tina:  Last year, she explained how her mom used natural food dyes but also placed a flower, like a daisy, on the shell and covered it in a segment of pantyhose. This leaves the impression of a flower on the side! 

Again, see last year's post for more dye colors, helpful tips, and instructions.

{{UPDATED April 1}}

Here are a couple more ideas I threw together over the weekend after our Saturday outing.  Feel free to file them away for next year.

These "dyes" were made by boiling a small purple cabbage and red beet puree (1 T) separately in ~2 cups of water for at least an hour; or steeping matcha powder (1 T) in ~2 cups of near-boiling water from a kettle.  This batch was all local, brown eggs, so the colors vary somewhat from what you will see with white eggs.  I strained out the cabbage; added 1 T of vinegar to the dye water, and soaked the eggs overnight again. 

Cabbage colored the eggs a deep shade of blue.  Beet puree created a fun orange-red (likely more pink/red on white egg).  Matcha powder left a pretty pale yellow shell.  I am positive the best green eggs come from combining blue + yellow dyes in separate soakings.

• cabbage water (first soak, overnight) then turmeric (~6 hours) = an intense evergreen egg
• turmeric (first soak, overnight) then cabbage (overnight) = a pale green with swirls (white egg)

"spring break" + living fully

"...you tell yourself: that's it, that's the last sofa I'm gonna need. Whatever else happens, I've got that sofa problem handled. I had it all. I had a stereo that was very decent, a wardrobe that was getting very respectable. I was so close to being complete." -narrator, Fight Club

After just a few days of visiting home - exploring the desert and mountain with my brother - I've once again affirmed the kind of life I want to live, that I am living. I am reminded how INCREDIBLY happy and at home I feel in nature. I'm suddenly immensely grateful to share my life with a man who also loves filling his life with doing - even during weekdays - like climbing after work/school or hiking together behind our house. I suspect he'd also opt to pick up and camp for a weekend, rather than fret over our sofa-less main floor. I'm sorry to those who have visited and suffered our limited seating dilemma; we're just not sit-around-kind-of-people. We'd rather spend the little bit of extra money we have doing - creating experiences - not just buying more.

Last night I spent some time flicking through my phone and deleting a couple subscriptions I'd been questioning for awhile. Even though I only followed a couple "design" blogs and hyper-styled IG feeds, it suddenly became too much; it's too easy to get caught up in the idea of "perfecting" and "styling" our new home...our life...and become disillusioned by the conviction that one more piece of furniture or clever diy decor will define and then complete us as people.

It is absolutely important to create a comfortable + peaceful + happy + creative living space...but most of what fills people's homes are simply "versatile solutions to modern living". We don't have a "proper" dining area. We likely never will. We've been slow to get a sofa for the main floor. Eventually we will, but this week, I am reminded of what I'd really like to fill my life with: the kind of investments worthy of time, money, energy, and sacrifice.

I am letting go of what our entryway says about us and getting back to real.life.living.

road trips with my husband. weekend camp-outs. climbing projects and projecting climbs. yoga every day. backpacking. evening walks. running trails. just to name a few.

I talk about this a lot. I know. It's something I have to constantly remind myself while navigating the everyday in this hyper-consumerist society.

 

**all photos taken & edited with my iPhone.

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around here / a glance at our new year.

musing / talking to young girls

What if the first thing we said to a little girl wasn't how cute she looks or how pretty she is?  What if it wasn't about her appearance?  Would she believe her intelligence, personality, whit...held more stock in the bank of her self worth, if we ask what her favorite book is or if she will tell us a joke or what the best part of her day has been?

The first thing I say to a little girl is something I have been trying to be more aware of the last couple years.  It's darn hard.

They are cute, with their freckles, and dimples, and miniature shoes.  Gushing over their adorableness is my first reaction.  They are so much more than the sum of these parts though.  They are vessels of infinite possibility and potential...they are beautiful women waiting to unfold.  Beautiful in every way, not simply the external.  Now I think the human body is to be celebrated in all its nuances -- striving toward self acceptance, non-competition, and a kind body image are worthy focuses -- but women are also so much more than our looks.

We talk a lot about body image in the blog world.  How we approach young girls is an everyday way we can have profound, real-world effects.  Watch how we speak to little girls.  Watch how speak to other women.  The efforts we make with young girls are meaningless if they still hear "girl talk".  It is absolutely wonderful to receive a compliment about our hair or smile or choice of clothing, not to mention these being easy icebreakers.  Often though, there is a more authentic, deeper connection waiting when we first ask about her new proposal at work or she comments about a shared love for a favorite author after noticing your current read.

Maybe young girls and women alike will remember we are so much more than the sum of our external parts.

(I am sure there is a young male counterpart to this.  I'm just not sure what it is.)

I'd love to hear your thoughts and observations.

what should we train for next? / post tough mudder

Dave asked me the above the very next day. I love his enthusiasm. It's contagious.

We had never trained specifically together until Tough Mudder. The only focused-type training we did leading up to it was running. More running or mileage than either of us has ever done consistently. Every other weekend we sprinted over desert trails, sweating together and soaking our skin in Sedona's sunshine.

We shared an unspoken goal to run the entire mudder. We did. We were pleased with our time and always helped at least one (usually more) mudder-er at each team challenge. I surprised myself occasionally - crossing the gymnastic rings easily and reaching the top of "Everest" unassisted - but most were as awkward as expected: scrambling up hills of mud, flailing from greased crossing bars, wincing through the "electric eel" (shudder)...

I didn't want to feel wrecked afterward. This was my only other "goal". Following it, we certainly felt like we had just run our farthest mileage ever, hauling ourselves over, through, and under obstacles of mud, barbed wire, walls, fire, and ICY water. Our skin is still torn, scratched, and coloured with bruises; the two-hour drive home let stiffness set in. It was nothing the foam roller and lacrosse ball couldn't address though.
Overall, we feel good - not wrecked - just an old ankle sprain threatening to flair up. {{Elevation. Compression with movement.}} These are making all the difference.

We are ready to (find &) attack our next challenge.
I think Dave is looking up more races, and I would love to continue specific training together. Working through a team "race" is empowering and bond strengthening. I'm not about to give up weekends in Sedona either. My gaze is drifting back toward climbing too. I miss road trips, the anticipation of projecting a new route, and falling into bed exhausted from effort, our skin sun-soaked and stained from the rock. I need to know if I have actually hit a plateau or if I simply haven't been working hard enough.

Either way, the key is having a goal in mind.

Sent from my iPhone

make your body . . .

good for something.

This is the only way I am able to begin to let go of certain expectations about how my body "should look".  I am naturally competitive; so when working out transitioned into "training", pushing myself came easily.  When I try something, I want to be perfect (an issue for another day) or at least the best I can be.  Whether a Tough Mudder approaches (this weekend) or a difficult climbing route stands out, setting my focus on performance lets everything else fall into place more effortlessly.

I feel a stronger sense of self by saying I can keep such-and-such pace running for 7 miles as opposed to I stay slim by running; or I led a 5.12 last fall versus do this exercise to get a back like mine.

I give my body a purpose rather than torture it for not being what it isn't.  I enjoy it more.  It being climbing, running, my body, life...all of it.  Opting for nourishing, whole foods to fuel me better becomes an organic choice, as opposed to suffering stringently through a "diet".  My body naturally changes - improves to meet demands - and sometimes parts might resemble the initial image in my mind.  Usually though, my idea of ideal evolves.  Most days, I look into the mirror with a kinder gaze.  Most days.

I still find myself thinking - and saying - things like I wish I had more muscle definition...or...if I had a really tight core...lower body fat %...I'd climb harder.

    I still get caught in the body image web.  It's a work in progress.

                         But it seems to be going in a positive direction.

around here / a glance at our new year.

Numbing temperatures and lingering, shaded snow smudged with grime create a dreary, grey landscape as winter wanes slowly.  In past years, my mood sunk with the temperatures; but Flagstaff somehow makes it more bearable, enjoyable even.  I credit the lack of inversion and smog soup.  What we miss about Salt Lake we make up in open space + fresh air.  This season, I see more color and detail, simply vignetted by the frost.  We've even braved the cold for a brisk adventure here and there, knowing at least we can breathe.  Having a desert playground in our backyard doesn't hurt either when we simply need to escape extreme bitterness.

...snippets from our happy winter days...

Eisley goes bizerk over snowballs.  Bowls of citrus fruits are spilling over onto our counters.  A reading date here and there gets tucked into cozy movie nights, along with plenty of knitting.  We exchanged new gym shoes as gifts.  Deadlifts are my new favorite (I can lift nearly 150% of my body weight).  We run in the desert any chance we get and squeeze rock climbing and route setting into our homebound days.  We surprised ourselves with souffle-making skills.  And e a r l y morning walks with Eis are a norm again with classes back in session.  A little bit of nesting + crafting: a new chair in the corner; simple wooden bead trivets; home dreams always whirling in our minds.  We survived sub-zero temperatures and have made escapes to balmy 30/40 degree Sedona an every-other-weekend-must.

I have been trying to shake a comment abour our "empty" house since last month, reminding myself I love our life (and our new home).  We are minimalists.  We live simply.  We don't need a bunch of stuff.  The unnecessary things we do choose to get, we will collect slowly and deliberately.  But really, we'd rather do things together and get out, even if it's just short, weekend roadtrips or hitting the gym together.  So, rather than obsess over making our house "perfect" or quickly filling it with a bunch of cheap crap just to fill it, I am reminding myself what our life looks and feels like.  And why I love it so much.