The Accidental Olympian

THE LITTLE GARDEN THAT COULD

It started as a...

 

and slowly became a...

And then exploded into a...

Tomato monster. 

A really, really tasty tomato monster that is.

SOME DAYS I FEEL AS IF I AM DROWNING

The first blogger I ever fell in love with was the hilarious Laurie of Crazy Aunt Purl. I was originally pulled into her archives by her humor, but quickly became hooked by the way she hung out her dirty laundry for the entire world to see; read at your own risk. Her blog started as a way to cope with her painful divorce, and as she took stock in her life she realized she had been dealing with an unhappy marriage by racking up a nice pile of debt. Scary, bone crushing, swallow you whole, DEBT.

She publicly proclaimed that to dig herself out of this mountain of debt she would be taking a stand against meaningless shopping. If it wasn’t a necessity she would no longer be buying. Desires be dammed. I read these words via her archive in the early portion of 2008. The very same year where each paycheck of mine seemed to barely stretch through that first weekend. The same year where I was living a life way beyond my means simply because this is what I thought being a college graduate was supposed to look like.

Simple concept right? If you don’t NEED it, DON'T buy it. Yet people flooded her inbox with proclamations of disgust. "HOW COULD YOU????" they raged. Not buying yourself something because you want it? How un-American.

Personally, I thought she was a GENIUS. Then and there I decided to join Laurie on her spending freeze. Together we would rule the world, and our finances.

I had a goal. Eliminate ALL credit card dept, open a savings account, and if I wanted something I would need to wait until the money was there. Money would be direct deposited from each paycheck in increments of $50 to my savings account, and if something I wanted was $100, I would need to wait until I had $150, take out the $100 and leave $50. My rule was to always leave my savings account $50 heavier than when I started, thereby ensuring that I could eventually purchase what I wanted, while also slowly building a safety net.

I felt so damn empowered. Strong, determined. And honestly, sometimes like a poor sack of shit. Yet sacrifices had to be made and I was learning to deal with that sometimes cold reality. Honestly, from the looks of my current designer jean collection you’d have no clue I was a poor sonofabitch. Thinking like that HAD to change. I no longer allowed myself to run out and drop $600 on my credit card to shop for clothes, because although I loved them, wanted them, and knew I would cherish and appreciate each item, I DIDN’T HAVE THE MONEY. Ashley, welcome to living within your means. Pain is money.

Eventually one card was completely paid off. I felt like a fucking super hero. Living by the savings account was hard, but working! It might have taken me two months to save for that new vacuum I needed, but when I paid for it in cash I had saved instead of putting it on my credit card, I loved that damn vacuum as if I birthed it myself. Before I knew it I could see the end of the finish line with my second card. Only $220 to go before I was free of huge credit card payments and ready to dedicate more precious funding into my savings account where it belonged.

Then on December 5th, 2008 I lost my job.

All my plans, all my hard work, and all that sacrifice was lost. Savings wiped out. Dept climbing with each week. The sticker, “DO NOT USE ME! I AM EVIL!” that once graced the front of my last credit card was subsequently removed and the spending just to remain above water began. I would try to assure myself that this was all temporary. Once I found a job I could return to my plan with vigor, I could again work tirelessly and finish what I was once so close to accomplishing. I kept telling myself that once I had a job I would be ok.

So what happens when you finally find that job, and you’re so thankful to be able to simply pay your bills again, so thankful to be able to see any income, but truly living within your means is still physically impossible? I want so badly to return to the land of debt reduction, to a place where each sacrifice I make also gives me joy in knowing that I’m accomplishing something bigger, but I honestly can’t yet live my life even in the barest sense without that piece of shinny plastic.

Adam and I try to remind each other to ‘live within our means’ so often I am sure I mumble it in my sleep. But how do you live within your means when your means aren’t even enough to get you through? If the money is gone three days after payday, do I just stop buying groceries? If I run out of gas do I simply stop driving? If Oly runs out of dog food do I revert to feeding her scraps? When we discovered that the support beam on our porch was rotted out and hosting an ant farm, were we supposed to just shrug and look the other way? I know what sacrifice feels like, but we also have to have some limits.

I still smile, and laugh, and spend time with friends. I still make vows to stop being such a scrooge always chanting, 'next time', and instead allow myself to spend for the right reasons. I still take pictures, and snuggle up to watch good movies. I still look forward to making new memories, and think of ways to brighten the lives of people close to me. I still find myself amazed by the beauty in nature. But in those same moments I’m also really scared. Because this time I can’t see the end. I can’t manage to work towards a goal right now because no matter how hard I try I can’t even manage to wrap my mind around what needs to be done to fix this. This inability to line out a game plan scares me more than I want to admit because it makes me feel helpless. And more than anything, most days I’m petrified that I’ve lost control.

How many of us live under the shadow of bone crushing debt and say nothing? How many of us feel pressure to live above our means, only to come home and quake at the site of our bank statements? Why does no one talk about this?

I SWEAR I DIDN'T PHOTOSHOP THIS PICTURE

I swear on my life that I didn't Photoshop this picture. Which sounds like some amazing feat in the world of digital photography manipulation, except for the fact that I don't even own Photoshop. BUT even if I did, the natural color from this evening is far to amazing to tamper with.

It's mind boggling how the same day that hit my father and I with torrential rain could also be the same evening to provide us with a moment such as this one.

WHEN WE FIGHT ABOUT MONEY

When we fight about money it's as if we're arguing underwater.

When we fight about money I experience the most striking déjà vu. We've been here before, chanting on a continuous loop across the forefront of my mind. 

When we fight about money I feel like a failure.

When we fight about money I feel inadequate. I want to carry the burden, control the problem, and just make it all go away. But I can't. Which makes me feel so very very small.

When we fight about money I can't stand to be near him. I yearn to escape, flee, retreat, anything to avoid the situation because no matter what I do I can't fix it.

When we fight about money it is as if I no longer know the person standing before me. Who have we become?

When we fight about money I lose all perspective.

***

When we make up I feel powerful. Plans laid before us, goals redefined, and our mission clearly marked. We can do this. We will do this. We will do this together. 

***

How is it that the topic that can send us off the handle, leave us so confused and angry that we must retreat to separate rooms to simply catch our breath can also bring us together so closely I feel that together we could take on the world? 

This post is inspired by this post, by the oh-so-talented Rebecca Woolf of Girls Gone Child.
Since reading her post, the words, "when we fight" have clouded by mind and enabled me to look at my own arguments from a different perspective.

I THINK THIS MEANS SUMMER IS OVER

PROTECTING OUR ELDERLY

So I’m walking into the grocery store yesterday, doing the whole mental check list thing, ‘eggs, milk, cereal, etc’ when I spot an elderly couple sitting on the table outside the grocery store. They seem cute, matching outfits, reusable shopping bags at their feet, a coffee in hand. Then I see it. There is a Pomeranian, glassy eyed, wearing an argyle sweater, sitting on the table, wrapped in a blanket in 75 degree weather.

Odd right? Oh wait, there's more.

As I approach I begin to study the strange, keep-their-dog-on-the-public-table couple. I catch a glimpse of their conversation which appears to be about their grandchildren, so nothing out of the ordinary there. Then as I inch closer I see it. The woman is tearing off pieces of her breakfast scone, chewing it, and then FEEDING THE PRE-CHEWED GOBS OF SCONE TO HER ARGYLE WEARING POMERANIAN, WHO ALSO HAPPENS TO BE SITTING ON THE TABLE, IN PUBLIC.

I could feel the bile creeping to the surface. Even worse though, as I watch this horror unfold I’m suddenly transported to the past and I’m ten years old again. There I am, sitting at the breakfast table with my grandfather, trying to tell him about my new favorite toy when suddenly I’m distracted as I watch him take his pre-chewed piece of English muffin out of his mouth and feed it to the pack of chihuahua’s yapping at his feet. Over, and over, and over, until the English muffin is complete gone. Not a single bite made it into his own stomach, yet he chewed the whole damn thing. Until this moment I had hoped that my grandfather was the only person in this entire world who thought it necessary, or even acceptable to give his miniature dogs pre-chewed gobs of breakfast in front of other human beings.

Are you seriously telling me that this is something MULTIPLES OF ELDERLY DO?!? IN PUBLIC?!? WITHOUT SHAME?!? Is this a growing pandemic? Did this woman know my grandfather? Did he corrupt this poor woman? As you age do people lose the ability to discern that dogs can chew their own food? I mean, my grandfather’s dogs all had their teeth, and from the looks of the sweater wearing pooch at the grocery store, it too had a full set of chompers capable of turning a piece of scone into bite sized pieces. Dogs are all VERY talented at chewing their own snacks last time I checked. And, even if they couldn’t, even if nature had stripped them of their precious ankle biting teeth, THAT’S WHY THEY INVENTED WET DOG FOOD!

I’m the first to admit that I bought Oly an overly priced dog house, I paid way too much for puppy class, and I even subscribe to Bark Magazine. But I will NEVER, EVER get to a place where I pre-chew her snacks for her. Because by the time I am 80 years old and the “must chew my dog’s snacks before feeding it to them” urge over takes me, Oly will be in the ground. And I will have a living will and testament that says that I am not allowed to adopt small furry pets capable of being placed on a table and fed pre-chewed snacks. Basically, I’m taking the preemptive strides needed to protect myself and others from this pandemic. I suggest you do the same.

I’m taking a stand and I hope you'll come along with me. We cannot allow this disease to overtake any more of our elderly. If you really love your Grandma you’ll take the tiny dog away from her today before it’s too late.

ORIGAMI FLOWERS

Two weekends ago when my fabulous Catch Phrase loving guests arrived in Olympia I scratched my head regarding where to take them. With only one full day to introduce them to my city, I wanted to make sure I gave them a memorable view of this place I now call home. Being huge foodies I knew the Olympia Farmers Market  was sure to be a hit. We entered the market with dreams of peaches, nectarines, blue berries, and fresh Washington apples, and before I knew it I was drawn to the floral displays, standing mouth ajar in utter awe of these naturally grown master pieces.

I know I'm no master gardener or anything, but I was pretty sure until two weekends ago that sunflowers only came in one variety. Tall and sunflower-like. Do these even qualify as sunflowers any longer? It's like someone took a typical sunflower and stuck its finger in a light socket. I'm going to rename them 'Super Poofs.' Because I'm five.

I love dahlias because they look like something that belongs under the sea among the coral reefs rather than growing here in the Northwest. Next year I'm going to try my hand at growing some dahlias. If I'm lucky, next spring I'll have my own little sea scape right in my back yard. 

 

These were my favorite flowers of the day.  I had to reach out and touch them because as I stood there I honestly wondered if these were origami flowers instead of something living. Absolutely spectacular.

NEXT TIME...

If you’re anything like me you spend a large portion of your days thinking about ‘next time.’ Next weekend I’ll go to that event/play/bar/park I've been putting off, next month I’ll go on that vacation, next pay period I’ll be able to splurge, next winter I’ll take that trip, next year I’ll visit that long lost friend...

I'm sick of saying, "Next time."

Watching Maggie of Mighty Girl visit Greece for her very first time is causing me to have the most vivid flash backs to the amazing summer trip to Europe my family took in 2007. A summer that not only opened my eyes to the world, but a trip where I realized for the first time the importance of truly allowing myself to live for the moment.

My mother and father are not rich by any stretch of the imagination. Summer trips to Europe aren’t the sort of things we did, ever. When we went on vacation, it was to the forest to sleep in a tent, or visit a family member a few hours away. Which was cool, but a tad less glamorous than discovering Europe on the back of a vespa. So when my mother came into some money they sat down and weighed their choices. They could have held onto all of it, put it all in stocks, invested in property, opened a large savings account, but they didn’t. Instead they acted responsibly first, and then threw in a dash of life.

My father had never been to Europe in his almost 60 years on this earth, my mother only as a young woman, and my sister and I never ventured much farther than Canada or Mexico. So in 2007 we boarded that plane a bunch of confused, scared, and wildly excited human beings. By the time we left Europe, after traveling to lands where we didn't speak the language, maneuvering foreign subway systems, and tasting exotic foods, each and every one of us knew that this vacation would alter our perception of the world forever.

While sitting on a white washed wall on Santorini Island, watching one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever witnessed I asked my mother if she regretted ‘wasting’ so much money for one silly vacation.

She turned to me ever so slowly, never taking her eyes of the fading sunlight and said, “I could have held onto each and every penny. I could have paid off more debt, paid off a bigger portion of the house, even helped more with your college, but then what? What would we really have after it was all said and done? If I’ve learned anything from the loss of Grandma it’s that tomorrow this could all be gone. How will a savings account help any of us if we’re all dead? I won’t ever regret this vacation, because right now I would rather give my family memories than a savings account.”

I didn’t visit my best friend in France sophomore year when she studied abroad because I was putting myself through school, I didn’t visit my two closest friends last year in Europe because I found myself suddenly unemployed, and sometimes I throw my hands up and don't push myself hard enough for important life experiences when I know the sacrifice will be worth it.

We walk a fine line every day between being responsible, and living life. Although I am the first one to plead for smart spending, the queen of nearly no credit card debt, very skilled in saying ‘NO THANK YOU,’ and the master of plowing through life on a meager paycheck, I’m also beginning to think I need to remember that one life changing summer and start saying ‘yes’ more often to living.

 

Does this mean I'll be jet setting off to Europe, or Bali, or the Swiss Alps any time soon? Probably not. But I want to continue to find ways to make life work with me, instead of against me. If I'm going to spend, I want to try to pick things that will also create memories worth glancing back at.

I guess at the end of the day it's just another little step towards looking at this life of mine with a tad more positivity. 

PAPER WINGS

HAPPY 28TH BIRTHDAY MOM

By the way, I love that we are only four years apart.