Unstyled Life
I’m going to try and return the Unstyled Life posts to the format I originally intended: unstyled images of beauty around the house and home with little accompanying text. It started as a way for me to not fret so much about the “work in progress” status of our home. Over time, the posts morphed into essays on life, both serious and frivolous. I will continue to write, I couldn’t possibly stop if I tried, but I won’t do it on Fridays. Right now, my heart says I am pushing myself too hard. Not the way professional working mothers must push themselves, since I bring it on myself as my own commandante. I don’t pretend to shoulder your demands, but I feel a hard shove from behind nonetheless. My hat’s off to you. I need to slow down and think and hear and see without attaching to it a to-do list. I’m doing a wonderful job at creating an intentional home. Now I need to be a little more intentional about how I live within those walls. It is possible to drown in a glass of water.
Yes, that is the new table. I took this from the sofa while I gave Mikey a practice spelling test. I thought the light was pretty, and it was only after I took the picture that I noticed I never put the candlestick back after lunch or shelved my 30 year-old copy of Jane Eyre after finding it the laundry room. I didn’t feel bad about it, either. I closed my eyes and dozed instead, for just a few minutes, before I got up to make dinner.
Too Much Storage
A welcome effect of living by the William Morris quote and creating an intentional home is that eventually you reach a point where you have too much storage. I know, crazy-talk, but unless you live in a home without closets, it is possible. Possible with sweat equity and capital, but possible nonetheless.
Take the Leksvik, for example. We kept this in our dining room to store many things. Last week we finally bought a dining room table (hurray!) and that meant there was no longer room for what officially became the clutter-catcher. No matter, since I already had it placed on Craigslist. I knew by looking through its cluttered glass doors that whatever it contained I could keep more organized somewhere else. I moved it to the back porch and hoped for the best. As luck would have it, someone offered to buy Leksvik only two days later. SOLD!
They gave me two hours notice on the coldest, windiest day of the season, but beggars can’t be choosers. I thought I could tackle the Great-Clutter Catcher Purge of 2012! before they arrived, but it was so cold and windy I was afraid all the loose photographs and paper would go flying.
Also, I didn’t feel like it. It looked like a lot of work.
I put everything inside an old laundry basket and placed it in the living room. Then I wiped everything down and gave Leksvik a quick polish. You so want to buy furniture off me on Craigslist. I pretty them up like they’re on their way to their first day of school.
The laundry basket of clutter stayed in my living room for only 24 hours before I sat down to toss/donate/keep.
[Pause. Wait for applause.]
I separated everything into groups, too. Both cookbooks went into a kitchen pile. I had an unusual amount of Christmas items, so those went into a pile, too.
Oddly enough, this introverted recluse who hates to socialize owns an obscene amount of party supplies. I like the idea of parties, or so it would seem.
That’s it! It took me less than an hour to place everything (haphazardly) in their new homes. This was good. I planned to tackle my wrapping paper storage issues, so I’m glad I was able to first uncover the last of the hidden supplies.
I can’t end the post with such a mediocre image, so I thought I’d share something else I found during the Great Clutter-Catcher Purge of 2012!
It’s a picture of the Mister when he was Nicholas’s age. I can really see the resemblance. People often say Nicholas looks like me, but I’ve never seen it. I’ve always thought he looks just like my husband.
Now it’s your turn! Feel free to share how you have lived according to the William Morris quote, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” Made a plan? Cleaned a drawer? Bought a sofa? Let’s hear it with a link or in the comments.
A few guidelines:
- Please link to a specific post, not a general blog address.
- No links to giveaways, please.
- A link back to this site is always appreciated. There are buttons to add to your post or sidebar, too, thanks to the lovely Alex, of Type A Calligraphy. Just copy the code and insert into your blog post or sidebar while in html mode.
- Let’s use this weekly link up as an opportunity to gather inspiration and motivation. Click links. Discover new people. Say hi and good job. I know I will.
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Gentle Giant Octopus
A good book makes me think, learn, or research. That goes for any genre, any age group. Of course, I’ve loved books that have done none of the three for me. But, I’m not talking about those today. Today I’m talking about Gentle Giant Octopus. I’ve been thinking about these creatures ever since. I’m hoping this random post will finally get them out of my system.
I bought this book for Nicholas last year. He was obsessed with sea creatures, and I thought the nonfiction book about an octopus would be someone he liked. Oddly, it wasn’t until recently, when he was sick, that we decided to sit down and read about giant octopuses. Octopi. Octopodes. (More on that, later.)
Although the story is nonfiction, it’s written in story form. Nicholas and I followed the life of a mama octopus jetting through the shadows, huge like a spaceship. First fact I enjoyed and filed away in my extensive file of useless information: the tentacles of the largest giant octopus ever found were a heart stopping 15¾ feet long. I will never step foot in the ocean again.
The watercolor illustrations by Mike Bostock are incredible.
We learned how the mama octopus moves, feels, and protects herself.
But under a boulder, a Wolf eel is waiting. His mottled gray face darts from the shadows. His teeth strike like daggers. He rips off a tentacle. Then sinks like a nightmare deep into his den.
Not to be outdone by a Giant octopus, Nicholas’s eyes opened to 16¼ feet in diameter. Nightmare, indeed.
This is my favorite illustration of the book. The mama octopus finds an easily guarded cave she can squeeze into and uses her tentacles to pull in pebbles all around her. Once inside, she lays her eggs, which hang from the roof of the cave like grapes on a string. She lays as many as 60,000 tiny eggs! As you can imagine, no sooner did we finish the last page, I was off and googling Giant octopus eggs. Amazing.
This is Nicholas’s favorite illustration. The eggs grow for five months, and during that time the mama octopus never eats and never rests. She’s essentially the Italian/Latin mother of my childhood, but without the guilt trips and high-pitched screams to clean my room.
No, mama octopus doesn’t do guilt trips. She takes it to the next level and dies.
A mother Giant octopus rests in her cave den. She watches her babies swim up through the water. A gentle Giant octopus shrinks into the shadows. Her life is over as their lives begin.
Well played, mama octopus. Well played.
As for those baby octopuses, they get their own. Only two or three out of 60,000 will live to become adults.
Which brings me my first act of google after we finished reading the book. Octopuses? Octopi? Octopodes? I thought it was octopi, but the book said octopuses. So confused!
I love learning something new.
Souvenir Foto School
One of the best times I have ever had blogging was when I participated in Tristan’s Souvenir Foto School, Alphabet Edition. (That link is to my collection of images and posts that came from the project.) The assignment was to take an image a day that represented a letter in the alphabet, but I decided it would be fun to write a short story or journal entry with each picture and post it here on the blog. After 26 days I was exhausted, but I think I was being a major wimp. A year later I did Nester’s 31 Day series. That’s exhaustion.
I’m doing the project again this year. We’ll see how and where I post the images. I’m still deep in my multi-step decision making process and will know more once the ink dries on all my decision matrices. If you want to join me, you can learn more about the project, including price, here. Full disclosure: I’m not paying the fee for the class. I’m helping Tristan with the Besotted Brand look-book, so we decided to call it even.
Last year, my only goal was to complete the project. This year, I want a collection of images that are consistent in tone, mood, and subject matter. I want to have a look! It’s on my life list to improve my photography skills and become adept at using my camera. Participating in projects like this will help me to that end. I hope.




























