It was Beautiful.

It didn't last long.  Maybe 30 seconds tops.  But while it did, I stood there in awe.  I think I even gasped . . . because it was so, so beautiful.


An evening sky of grey, pink, and blue -- Cotton candy clouds.   We never get them here.

But last night, we were blessed with a moment of wonder.

I savor moments like this.

Make it Work.

Last night there was a Halloween dance for the teenagers at church.  About an hour before it was time to go, Claire and Eden both made an announcement:

I NEED A COSTUME!!!!

My response:  "I'm not taking you to the store to spend loads of money on an outfit for a dance that lasts an hour.  Dig around in the costume box and find something!  Make it work."   

I have to say, I liked what  they came up with more than anything they could have purchased at the last minute.


Claire's Creation:   Bubble gum on the bottom of a shoe.
 
Eden's Ensemble:   A Disneyland tourist.

Fill Your Cup.

I was talking with a woman the other day about my Etsy shop, and she asked me a question:


"How do you do it? How do you juggle being the mom, being the wife, being the homemaker AND still have a place for your jewelry, sewing, cooking and taking classes like the one you took in photography?"


Oddly enough, I received an email the other day from a friend asking me the very same thing. I thought that was interesting -- two people asking the same question within days of each other. Even more interesting because I often ask that question myself -- when I see someone out in the world who manages to do things that seem to overwhelm me.


I'm finding that there isn't an easy answer, but I want to respond because I think there are so many women out there who feel like they are losing a sense of who they are as they strive to fulfill the demands of parenting, being a wife, working, serving in the community, and all the other things that seem to take up so much of our time.    I'm definitely not an expert -- I can only tell you about my journey and the things I've learned along the way.  I sincerely hope that what I have to say does not offend.


I know from experience that making time for myself -- doing things that lift my soul is an absolute necessity in my life.  I need it like water.  If I don't make this time, the every day demands of life leave me drained and I begin struggling with depression that does not seem to go away.  I have seen dark days, let me tell you -- and they were not pretty.   If you've ever struggled with depression, you know what I mean.  That feeling affects everything -- you don't even have the energy to get out of bed, which can be hard especially when you have toddlers and spend most of day attending to their needs.  It leads to deep, deep sadness, and despair.  No one should feel like that.  It's awful.  It hurts my heart to know that people do, and that it happened to me -- more than once.


There was a period in my life where I spent a lot of time on my knees pleading for help.  The answer came to my mind as I was sitting in my bathrobe in the middle of the day watching the Disney channel with my little ones.   It was this:

"Make time to create, make time to learn, and make time to love and serve, and you will find happiness."

That answer was specifically for me -- you may need something completely different.  But I firmly believe that God knows each of us, and our needs.  You have the power to ask, and get answers that pertain specifically to you.  If you are struggling, I highly recommend it.

I have used the counsel I received as a sort of mantra in my life.   It's not always easy to fit in my schedule, but when I do, I know that I am happier person and the people that surround me get the best I have to offer.  My cup stays filled, and somehow I have the energy to get everything done (even if I have to stay up until 4:00 a.m. to do it.)

We are always going to be busy, and there is never going to be enough time to do all the things we dream of doing. But, I know if you want something bad enough -- like time to create, it can happen. How you make it happen varies depending on the season of your life.  Here are some of the things that I did:

When my children were really little, it was hard to find time to be creative. They hit the ground running when they woke up (at 5:30 a.m) and didn't stop until they fell asleep at 8:00.  I worked full time too. That meant I had a small amount of time to spend with my husband, and an even smaller amount of time to spend on myself. It was hard. But, I made a plan.  I explained to my husband that I was struggling and needed some time for myself, that would require his help.  He agreed to be available one Saturday a month, and one night a week so that I could get out and do something I enjoyed.   I used the time to take creative classes like sewing, cooking, art, ceramics, print making …. Taking a class forced me out of the house and into a world where I could focus -- where I could make a mess. It also gave me the opportunity to meet other people who inspired me. Most of the women I met were in their 60's and still creating. In fact, they were really good at what they were doing. I remember thinking: “If I stick with this, some day I'm going to be amazing!” I loved those women and I loved those classes. It filled my cup so that I had the energy to deal with the routines in life. And you know something …. I never got amazing at any of those classes, but it didn’t matter. I learned that the joy is in the process!!!!!


If I didn't have the money to take a class I didn't let that stop me.  I would read books on topics I was interested in learning (in the days before the internet), or I would call girlfriends and say "let's get together and learn how . . . ."  And we did -- at 9:00 at night after our kids had gone to bed.   We had knitting nights, and scrapbook nights, and wood working nights, and book clubs.   It kept us sane as we navigated our way through the perils of raising toddlers.




When my kids entered elementary school I got to be a stay-at-home mom. I thought: "Boy I'm going to have all sorts of time to do stuff for myself." Little did I know that I would spend half of that time at school helping out in the classroom.  Then another problem cropped up. My kids got involved in all sorts of after school activities like dance and soccer. I had huge amounts of time where I was just sitting and waiting. So, I used that time to create. I sat at dance lessons with my big pile of craft supplies, and worked away at whatever I was interested in doing at the moment. I quilted, made books, jewelry, cards, blankets, hats, and get this -- pretty soon it sparked all kinds of conversation. I met tons of women, who said: “Oh, I can’t do that … I’m not creative.” Guess what – they were creative, they just didn’t know it. I taught them how to sew, how to quilt, how to knit. It was so much fun. In fact, the owner of the dance studio asked me if I had ever sewn costumes. I said: "If you count Halloween, then.... yes!" And that answer lead to a job. I became a costume designer/fabricator for the dance competition teams. (Visualize, the costumes you see on "So You Think You Can Dance" times 150). It was the hardest, most stressful thing I've ever done. I had no idea what I was doing, but I figured it out. Boy, did I learn a lot. I took my sewing machine to dance and worked while my kids were in class. I also had to work at night after they had gone to sleep. I was SO TIRED, but it was fun. That job gave me a creative outlet that lasted 5 years. I loved seeing all my creations on stage, and I made enough money to pay for all those dance lessons. I learned that sometimes you have to brave enough to take a chance. You never know where your creative energy will lead you. I learned that sometimes you have to overcome the fear of failure. Look at all those women who learned to be creative!! And … I learned that you can make money doing what you love.


Now, my children are in middle school and high school. I'm no longer sewing, or a room mom, and my kids don't require quite as much attention.  I had to stop and ask myself what I really wanted to do, and who I really want to become.  In this particular season of my life, I have to remind myself to think about that often.  It's so easy to waste time doing things like shopping every day, or watching a lot of television, or spending all day cleaning the house so that it looks perfect all the time. I've discovered these things don't fill my cup.  They really don't.


I've come to the conclusion that I don't want to be remembered as a person who was a fantastic house cleaner (hence the reason my house looks the way it does when you come over), or who had amazing cloths (which is why my daily uniform consists of Old Navy t-shirts and flip flops) -- I want to be remembered for making a difference, for laughing, and loving people.  That has helped me focus so that I spend time doing things that matter to me.


I am still following the pattern that was set years ago:  I use my free time to take classes during the day, and to run an Etsy shop selling the things I create, and to spend time with friends.   And, I make time to share what I know with others-- teaching friends how to sew, and knit and blog and .... whatever else they want to learn.  Some of them are young moms so we get together at night, just like I did with my friends when I had toddlers.    I mention that because there are probably women all around you that have something to offer.  Ask them to teach you -- they will probably be more than happy to share their talents. 


I have to say that the greatest part about spending time creating --- the biggest blessing of all, are the people that it has brought into my life. I am so, so grateful for that. I know amazing women who have pressed on through hard trials and found beauty along the way.  They are an inspiration.  I love them so much.

***

N and A -- I hope this helps.   Keep your cups filled. You can do it.  You really can -- even if all you have time to do is take a walk around the block with a friend, or create  homemade macaroni and cheese.

***

Readers, feel free to leave a comment if you have any words of wisdom that you would like to offer.

***

Post Script: This talk has been a huge help to me when I feel discouraged. I keep it in my office and read it often.

Nemesis No. 2

My dog Elfie made a discovery last night that has rocked her world.   We were sitting on the sofa enjoying a night of prime time television when all of the sudden, Elfie started growling.  The kind of growl reserved for intruders, and danger lurking around the corner.   It would not stop.  She growled and growled for a good ten minutes.   But I couldn't figure out what had her so upset.   

I checked the front door -- nothing.  I checked the back door -- nothing.  I looked in the closets.  I even wondered if there was a mouse in the house.  There wasn't, thank heavens.


Then I followed her line of vision.   Sitting upon on the fireplace mantel was my newest Halloween decoration.

It's been there for weeks, but Elfie only just made the discovery of its appearance in our living room. She does not like it. Not one bit.


I took the black cat off the mantle and set it on the floor. The growling erupted into intense barking. Elfie even jumped off the sofa to assume the attack position -- which by the way she has only done once before when we had another dog living with us . . . that she did not like.  AT. ALL.

Poor Murphy Brown -- Nemesis No. 1, didn't stand a chance.  Elfie hated him from the minute he walked in the door. We had to find Murph another place to live, but that's another story.


Well . . . all I have to say is that Elfie is going to have to suck it up. I'm not getting rid of this cat -- even if the rest of the family hates it too.

Too Busy to Post Until Tonight.

I have a list of things to do today that includes paying a visit to my storage unit, working on a botique booth, cleaning up the disaster my family made of the kitchen over the weekend, grocery store, laundry, dry cleaners, and figuring out what to make for dinner.  Any ideas??


Hope your day is fab-u-lous.  And if you live in Southern California, I hope you are enjoying the rain.  I get to wear my galoshes again.

Proof My House isn't Always a Disaster.

Last night around 7:30, Matt came home from work.  Dinner had been sitting on the counter for about an hour.  The entire house was in shambles with projects in careless piles everywhere.  And I mean everywhere.  A mound of dishes was in the sink because someone who's had that chore for over 7 years running, just can't remember to load the dishwasher.  They blamed it on person who's had the unloading job for the same amount of time -- for not doing their job.   The Unloader said they simply forgot to unload.  I ask you, how do you forget a job that you've had for over 7 years?  How???? 


Matt took 1 bite of Chinese chicken salad and said "Greg is coming over in a few minutes to work on his car." I just about died. I hate it when I don't get an advance visitor warning when the house looks like it's been hit by a bomb.


Five minutes later, the doorbell rang, and in walked Greg. Don't need to tell you I was totally embarrassed. It seems like this happens to me a lot. People show up and my house looks like the show Hoarders.


So today, I offer proof that my house isn't always a disaster. Between the hours of 7:00 and 2:00, my house looks quite nice -- especially after it's been cleaned.

Eve, make sure Greg sees this photo please so I can redeem myself.


In a few minutes it's going to look like a disaster again, because  it's now 3:30.  Guess who's home . . . .

P.S.   Kathy, please leave a comment and tell people I was a really clean roommate. :)

Projects

It's still rainy and cold outside, which for some reason forces me to stay home and work on projects.


Here's what I got done yesterday . . . .

Worked on my booth for the Queen Bee market.

I got an early start on the holiday madness and canned some raspberry jalapeno jelly for Christmas gifts -- recipe here.  If you are looking for something to give teachers and neighbors . . . this is super easy and oh so good.

And believe it or not, I worked for two, count em' two hours trying to clean off my desk.  Here it is the middle of October, and I'm still not done organizing my craft room.  Agh.  I really hate this project.

I Like the Word "Galoshes."

Last night I woke up to the sound of thunder.  It was exciting because that never happens around here.  Even better was the light show.   Lightening for hours on end.  I didn't get any sleep, but I loved being in bed listening to the rain.  I was actually looking forward to getting up this morning because I had new galoshes that I was finally going to have a chance to wear.

But at 5:00 a.m. Claire came in and started rustling in the closet.

"You better not be after my new galoshes!  You have your own!"  I said in a panic.

"Yeah, but I need these!" she replied as she made her way out the door.  Why in the world does she do that????  It drives me nuts.

But, I was too lazy to chase after her, it was too cozy under all my blankets.  

Plus, I didn't worry to much about it because truth be told, I like her new galoshes better than mine.

I think we just made a spontaneous trade.

***

It's going to be the best day.  I love being out in the rain with galoshes. (Can you tell I love saying that word.)   And the best, best part is homemade chili for dinner.  Recipe here.

Post Script: If you are looking for a cute pair of galoshes, check Target online. They have the best selection, and the best price.

"Scotty, take the bridge."

Sunday afternoon we went out for a drive.   As we got in the car, there was a change in the standard arrangement.   Matt said "Scotty, take the bridge."  But, he wasn't talking to me.  Look who's at the wheel practicing her skills.

Those of us in the back seat were gripping the hand rails and spontaneously braking the floor. But we shouldn't have . . . because Claire actually did a good job.  We all survived to tell the tale.

***

Post Script:  If you are trying to figure out what the post title means, you are not a Star Trek fan.

The Horse Whisperer

Eden is a Boy Scout.  He absolutely hates it. (Sorry Carlos and Jared, it's not your fault.)   I'm guessing it's because it involves work, and trying new things. 

Every time Eden hears the word "merit badge" he dies a little inside.   At least that's what he said last week.  And he meant it.


But here's the thing.   Even though Eden thinks he hates Scouts, he's actually learned things he absolutely loves.   Case in point.   The horsemanship merit badge.   Eden had to work on that this summer at Scout Camp.  And when he came home, all he could talk about was horses and how much fun it was to ride.


It's October, and he hasn't stopped -- hating Scouts or talking about horses.  So last week, we signed him up for riding lessons.   He loves it.  Loves, loves, loves it.  And I am glad, because riding horses involves a lot more than just riding --  you learn about caring for something besides yourself.   You have to groom and saddle the horse, and feed the horse, and shovel a lot of sh#@ . . . all of which comes in handy when you become a parent.    You have to learn patience when the horse doesn't do what you want it to do.  And you have to be patient with yourself as you learn the ropes, so to speak.    


All good lessons, if you ask me.

I think Eden's on his way to becoming a Horse Whisperer.

Mark Your Calendars

It's that time again -- holiday season is right around the corner.   I don't know about you, but I'm already thinking about my Christmas list and all the other things that come with November and December.   


If you live in Southern California, you need to come to this boutique!  It's going to be amazing with lots of fun, handmade gifts.   And, I'm going to be there, so even if you don't find something you want to buy, we can visit! 


I might even  give you some treats!!!!!


Put it on your calendar!!!  Queen Bee Market at the Hilton Hotel in Del Mar, California.  November 12th and 13th.

The Pumpkin Patch

My kids are too old for the pumpkin patch this year.  I'm sad about that.  I found these the other day when I was cleaning out a drawer.

They made my heart ache just a little -- thinking about the days when a pumpkin patch was magic.  Giant pumpkins you could set three kids on for a great photo opp., a tractor pulling a huge wagon packed with people, scare crows, and a huge field full of pumpkins still on the vine.  Eden and Claire looked forward to it all year long.    A few nights later, we would get out the carving tools and spend the evening creating master pieces to be displayed on the front step on Halloween eve.    Such good days.


Have you visited a pumpkin patch this year?  If not, you should.   And I think I should too -- even if we can no longer fit on the giant pumpkin.

What Do They Know?

Last month, Emily Falconbridge taught me how to make a wool felted scarf.   I loved the process -- dipping wet wool roving into water and making a pattern atop bubble wrap.  It was calming, and as I worked I let my mind wander.    It's nice to have moments like that -- when you can create and feel peaceful at the same time.


This morning it was cold and rainy outside so I pulled out my scarf.  I ran my hand over the wool and remembered my day with Emily and the rest of the women who worked along side me.  I liked the way it turned out -- organic with colors that remind me of moss and berries.    I put on my scarf, and went downstairs to start the day.  It felt warm around my neck which was nice, because the rest of me was cold. 


Eden stared at me and said "What is that thing?  You look like you are being attacked by ivy, and moss that you pulled out of some pond!"  I took him about 2 minutes to recover from laughing.

Then Matt added his two cents -- "You look like you are being strangled by sea weed."  (This coming from a man who wears Dr. Scholls orthopedic shoes that squeak.)

Thank heavens I have a daughter.  She said  "I think it's pretty cool -- sort of Anthropology-ish.  Where did you get it?"

"I made it."  I said.    Claire smiled with raised eyebrows, which means "Way to go."   

I don't care what anyone says . . . I like my scarf -- and so does Claire.

And Then There Was the Dance.

It's weird when your daughter is old enough to go to a high school dance.  Weird, and a  bit frightening.  Wasn't she just playing dress up?  Wasn't I just telling her to stay in the yard and not run out into the street?  Wasn't I just telling teaching her not to talk to strangers?


I thought I was worried  then.  Those worries were nothing.  Those worries were just the baby steps for bigger worries . . . like dating and driving, and serious dating, and leaving home, and even more serious dating, and getting married.      Oh my head hurts.  Make it stop!!!


This year, Claire went to her first dance with a group of girl friends.   Such beautiful, beautiful girls.  Wouldn't you agree that I have big reasons to worry.

Next year . . . . next year, the worries get a little bigger.  I'm going to be a wreck.  Claire will be old enough to date AND drive.  I am so dreading that -- the day she backs out of the driveway and drives off on her own.  I think I'm going to have a constant "deer in the headlights" look on my face. Panic -- that's what you will see when you look me in the eyes.   

Will you do me a favor?  Please humor me when it happens, and just ignore that look.

Is it ok to start worrying about that now, cuz I confess, I have been worrying -- just a little bit.  It's probably not ok, huh?  I need to savor my last few months of a semi-peaceful mind.  


How in the world do you mothers with lots of kids do it?  How?  The waiting up at night until everyone is safe at home?  Do you have a secret stash of chocolate under your bed?   Do you get ANY sleep?

I'm definitely taking up some serious yoga and meditation.   I'm going to need it.  

Homecoming

In 1975, I was a loyal Highland High Ram. My favorite colors were black and white -- our school colors.  I spent every friday afternoon at a football game cheering for my friends on the field.  The best part of the game -- the drumline that played at half-time while the Pep Club marched. (In case you are wondering -- Pep Club is the equivalent of a song squad, or a dance team.) When I was a junior, my friends and I were the ones marching on that field as the drum line played the "Highland cadence." At the homecoming game, bag pipes played along. It was magical.


So now, when I hear the sound of a drum line, it takes me right back to those autumn afternoons. And I am lucky because I live down the street from Great Oak -- the local high school, where the drum line practices every night under the stadium lights. I can hear them when I walk out my front door. If I close my eyes and listen, I feel like I'm back at Highland, wandering the halls, passing notes in class, sliding down the banister, planning what to wear to homecoming with my girlfriends. It doesn't seem like that long ago, but it is. Years and years. Those drums bring the gift of wonderful memories.


Last Friday night was the homecoming game at Great Oak. The whole neighborhood turns out for the event. We are there every year along with everyone else to support the kids we know and love. It's fun to see the stands filled with teenagers wearing red, white and blue. There's so much energy. When I walk into the stadium I remember what it was like in 1975.   Cheerleaders, pep clubbers, a band, and lots of teenagers wearing black and white.   Things haven't changed all that much, except now there's Astro-turf instead of real grass.


There is one more thing that differs between then and now.   My high school didn't have a homecoming court -- with a queen and princesses.   I don't know why.  It always felt like something was missing, especially if I went to another school's homecoming and saw the train of cars parading the queen and her court around the stadium.  It made the homecoming game special.  Instead we got a ram that sat tied up to a post eating grass.



But now, the missing piece is complete because there is a homecoming court at Great Oak.  This year as with other years, there was a beautiful homecoming queen and beautiful princesses.   This was one of them -- she was my favorite.

I cried a little when her dad walked her down the red carpet.

I Have to Share This

A few days ago, I received a comment on one of my posts -- The Weekly Summit.    Sweet Natasha shared this video with me, and I need to share it with you, because it describes perfectly how I feel about the women in my life.  I hope you take the time to watch it, because it will empower you, and make you grateful.


Thank you Natasha.  And thank you friends . . . . all of you.  Near and far.  I love you more than you can possibly know.

Where in the World is Ferris Beutler??

My husband, Matt has a nickname. It's "Ferris." When Matt was in college, his friends dubbed him "Ferris" for obvious reasons. His last name is Beutler. He liked it, and it stuck.

When we were dating I knew the minute I heard his nickname, that Matt and I would get married. It was sort of a sign. I remember the exact time and place when it happened. Christmas vacation -- December 23, 1991, around 8:00 p.m. We were with Matt's college friends in a rock climbing gym in the city of Provo. I was half way up the wall when Matt's best friend Clarence Hoffheins, who I had not yet met, walked through the door and yelled:
Hey Ferris!


{Here's the exciting part of the story -- the part where I knew.}
I thought Clarence was talking to ME!

When I got off the wall, I leaned over and whispered to Matt: How did he know my last name?
Clarence said: What???
Then I said: What???
Matt said: Crystal, this is Clarence. Clarence, this is Crystal -- Crystal FARISH!!!

Clarence looked at me, and I looked at him.
Matt said: It's true Clarence, that's her real name.
Clarence laughed and said No WAY!! Prove it.
So I pulled out my wallet showed him my driver's license. Then I said: Who's Ferris??"
And Clarence pointed to Matt and said: He's Ferris.
I said NO WAY!
And Clarence said YES WAY!
Then Matt started his climb up the wall and Clarence said to me:
Hey, if you guys get married your name is going to be Farish Beutler!
That's when I knew. I knew right then and there that Matt and I would get married.
Farish-Beutler.... it's destiny.

Then all of Matt's friends looked at each other; Clarence, Larry, Craig, Mike, Duane and Shawn; and they all smirked. They knew it too. They knew I was going to marry Matt. And Matt -- I have no idea what he was thinking. He was climbing, unaware of the important conversation taking place down below. If I had to guess, he was thinking something Homer Simpson-ish like:  Doughnuts . . . doughnuts are good.

Now you have to understand something: the fact that we all knew at the very same time -- this was monumental! Matt and I had been single for umpteen years. I was 33, and he was 31!!! In Mormon time, we had been on the dating circuit for a long, long time. Too long according to our parents. They had pretty much given up on us. Matt's friends --  they'd seen many girlfriends come and go. But Crystal Farish, she was the one!!

And me,  I had kissed many a frog, but here HE was -- "Ferris", the prince of all princes! A little sweaty (due to the rock climbing) and a little bald, but that didn't matter at all. Farish and Beutler. True love at last. It was a little like finding the girl who fit the glass slipper, but in this case it was a name and a rock climbing shoe. When Clarence uttered the words Hey Ferris! Poof!!... the curse of being in a single's ward forever was broken, and we lived happily ever-after. Even the 7 dwarfs --- I mean the 5 bachelors: Larry, Duane, Craig, Mike and Shawn. They eventually got married too.
Thank you Clarence, you saved us all.

So there you have it. The tale of what brought us together. We didn't get married for another two years,but that boys and girls, is a story for another day. Pretty magical, huh!

I've legally been Crystal Farish Beutler for 16 years now. It's spelled differently than Ferris Beuhler, but it sounds the same when you say it really fast. Do you know that during our marriage ceremony, the officiator guffawed when he read our names! Imagine that, a sweet little old man (and by old I mean 80's) got the joke too. You'd be surprised how handy it is to have a name like Farish Beutler. I mean, how many times have you been in a crowd when some comedian yells: Beuhler, Beuhler.... anyone.... anyone?? That's when I yell: Hey, who said that? I'm Farish Beutler!! I proudly pull out my wallet. And the whole crowd cheers when I show the comedian my ID. In fact, when my kids were toddlers we were standing in a long line at the entrance to the San Diego Zoo, when a zoo employee yelled: Beuhler, Beuhler.....anyone......anyone???? That's right! I showed him my ID. He said: NO WAY!!!!!!! and gave me 4 free passes to the zoo. Sometimes you get freebees when you are semi-famous.

So, in answer to the question: "Where in the World is Ferris Beutler?" Farish Beutler is at her computer composing this post, and Ferris Beutler is in India trapped in a bathroom because he was foolish enough to eat cashews that tasted like hard boiled eggs. (He thinks he as a cast iron stomach and that nothing will phase him. Up until today it was true.)
 
India you say? Yes, it's true. That lucky slum dog. I haven't seen him in a mighty long time. Two weeks ago he was in Chicago. Last week he was in Israel, and this week..... India. When I heard he was trapped in a bathroom, I got a little nervous. Before he left, I warned him over and over again: You are not a super hero!!! Get your shots.!!! Pack some Imodium!!! But did he listen????? No, dag nabbit! He was watching my mouth move, but his thoughts were elsewhere: Donuts, donuts are good. I hope he doesn't bring home some horrible disease that he'll be fighting for the rest of his life. Then old Ferris, he be having a lot of "days off!"

This post is for you Ferris, wherever you are.
You are missed.