For months I’ve been looking at sand timers. Pinterest knows, and my feed is filled with them. I discovered quickly that some of the pictures were just pictures of sand timers and not actually for sale.
Today, I walked into a store I’ve not visited before. It looked like a Home Depot for housewares. It was huge and rather overwhelming, but I knew what I was looking for. A curtain rod.
The trick was finding the drapery aisle, so I started walking and reading signs along the way. The direction of the aisle changed and I stood in front of a long row of shelves. My mission for the curtain rod was now on pause as I gazed at all the pretties.
Then, I saw it sitting right in front of me. It was the only one of it’s kind on the shelf. I picked it up to see how it felt in my hand.
It felt lightweight, and delicate.
The sand looks like finely ground gold, and sparkles. That’s my kind of time.
I haven’t ‘collected’ anything specific in a very long time, but I could collect sand timers. What better to collect than a sparkly collection of time.
“There’s so much glitter”, she said.
“I’ll take that one”, was my response.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll just drink the glitter!”
This is a normal conversation between my daughter and me. This is also the second time this week she’s made a cup of tea, only to find glitter floating in it. The glitter is from the garland hanging across the coffee bar. A sprinkling landed in the cups.
I’m still pondering why that’s a bad thing.
The tree went up before Thanksgiving.
We bought one the day they were delivered to the store. This one fits the house instead of overtaking the house. The tree stands quietly in the corner of the den offering additional warmth and sparkle to our lives. A small tree in a small house is more inviting than a giant tree in a small house.
My daughter researched how to flock a tree and good ol’ Amazon helped. She did a fabulous job with it and now we have enough flocking left over for 10 more trees! I believe she wants to flock our wreath next. We give ourselves permission to sprinkle some extra goodness into our life.
But you don’t have to drink the glitter.
Writing is happiness.
I’m not sure if it brings it in, or if I have so much happiness, it’s a form of release.
Sloth’s and candles are happiness.
Being here with you is happiness.
Thank you for the love and care on my previous post. I was struggling to find my happy again. A friend asked if I was okay, and I responded with, “Yes. I did this to myself. I tried doing everything in my own strength.”
I’ve always been an overachiever and that includes giving of myself. Be mindful of where you give. It needs to be reciprocated, or you’ll find yourself empty.
There was a lot of glitter involved in bringing back my happy. I spray painted pumpkins with a clear coat of gold glitter and I’ve been working on the coffee bar. It’s a work in progress and every time my daughter comes home it looks different.
Change is an outlet for growth.
Coffee is complete happiness.
I added this to the coffee bar, so it’s one of the first things we see each morning. You don’t have to look for signs around here. I’ll buy ’em and hang ’em.
Read the fine print. There is happiness.
I walked out on the front porch with coffee in hand. It was early morning, but the temperature was already warm. August in Texas.
My daughter gauges my well-being by the amount of glitter on the porch. This morning, you could tell it has not been maintained and every potted plant was struggling. I sat down with my coffee and gazed at the yard, knowing what it needs.
It needed a good drenching.
I’ve been working a lot. Having three part-time jobs is taking it’s toll on my body, mind and spirit. My work load has intensified and some days I work two jobs on the same day. On Thursday, I worked all three. Bossman at the Pizza place said, “Everybody wants a piece of Barb.”
The key is to not run out of pieces.
I walked over and grabbed the hose.
♥ ♥ ♥
What you just read has been sitting in drafts since last week. That’s as far as I got with it, but this morning, I was right back at the same spot.
Sitting on the porch with coffee. Looking at the little bit of glitter scattered across the porch and covered by debris. The yard was coughing at me from lack of water. My daughter didn’t have to ask how I was doing this morning. She took one look at me and said, “You’re tired.”
But the great thing about this is….awareness. There was a time in my life that I would have just pushed through, but not today. You work at a slower pace. I turned the phone off for 30 minutes to allow myself a moment to catch up.
Awareness and knowing when to pause.
I stopped typing this post last week and left it in drafts, but knew I’d come back to it. I don’t have to quit. I’m just practicing pause and rest.
My daughter has left for the weekend.
We have this word we’ve been using.
Let the weekend begin.
I hugged her before she left and she said, “You smell good.” I was wearing my shimmer mist, so maybe she will see some glitter from that hug later on.
She texted me once she arrived at her destination and said, “Have a magnificent weekend!” My response was, “I wish you all the magnificence”.
I wish the same for you my darlings.
My daughter came home Monday to our front porch sprinkled with glitter. She’s concerned about leaving me alone on the weekends now. 🙂
I explained how it all started with her.
She was walking to her car and almost slipped off the front porch. It’s in the shade and becomes slippery after a rain. I made a note to fix it.
After she left, I noticed it was time to refill the hummingbird feeder. It had a little liquid inside, so I dumped it out. The sugar water splattered onto the porch, but once it dried it looked like glitter.
I went to a craft store and bought a can of clear spray glitter. That didn’t work out. Maybe it was a dud can, but the spray was clear with no glitter.
I went back to the store and bought glitter.
Just a container of it. Never knew there were so many options! Before my daughter arrived, I sprinkled it on the porch. Yes lovely, it’s magical!
I’m pondering painting the steps with a clear-coat of glitter. It comes in a can to be brushed on like paint.
That, my darlings, is a marvelous option.
I don’t think about death very often, but just like a lot of things in life, I know what I don’t want when it happens. My daughter knows I want to be cremated, and scatter my ashes somewhere beautiful. I saw this Meme the other day, and read it to her. Now she has added glitter to that list.
When my daughter was little, she didn’t get to play with glitter. It was too messy, and it never went away completely. As she got older, we embraced the mess it made, and we’d smile when we found a piece from months ago.
We have Christmas ornaments covered in glitter, and most of my friends know when they give me something, if it’s covered in glitter, that’s even better. The other day, after practicing Yoga, I rolled up my mat to find a piece of glitter stuck to the bottom of my foot. We haven’t even had any glitter in this house, so I guess it followed us here.
My daughter texted me yesterday that Kate Spade committed suicide. I laid my phone on the table, at the luncheon, and gazed at my Kate Spade phone case purchased a couple of weeks ago. It’s a black, leather case with her name and spade embossed in gold.
She left a trail of glitter, and I hope is now on one of gold.