Granola Round 1: Not Better than Hippie Crack

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man hippie in possession of good fortune oats must be in want of a wife batch of granola.  

Okay, I may or may not have adapted that from beloved Jane, but really, let's be honest with ourselves.  If you eat granola, you have a hippie alter ego.  I think sometimes mine looks something like this:  

(photo courtesy of speeddealercustoms.com)

Or maybe something like this:

(photo courtesy of theclassyfashion.com)

My sister Kate brought me back some delicious granola from her time spent during the Peace Corps paid vacation medical evaluation in Washington, DC.  She and her medical evacuees found this great bakery that sold great granola.  AKA Hippie Crack.

**Clouds part, the sun shines, and a chorus of Hallelujah flows down from heaven** No joke.

Also on the day that she gave it to me, we were hanging out in our parent's kitchen making lunch with our younger sister Megan.  Somebody threw a recyclable item into the trash can, to which I promptly took it out and scolded the culprit.  Their responses?  In very whiny, high-pitched voices, "Oooooh, I'm Tamsen and I'm from Cotaaaaattttiiiiiii!"  And if you know anything about Cotati, you will know exactly what they mean.  They mean hippie.  For those of you in Colorado, think Boulder.

Again, I digress.

This week I was inspired by a few things to make some of my own hippie crack.  As if seeing granola prices at the grocery store wasn't enough (seriously, five bucks for 12oz?! Is anyone else as scandalized as I am?)  An abundance of oats and my rekindled love of yogurt were also inspirations.  Not to mention the fact that the Mountain High brand Vanilla yogurt was on sale this week.

I adapted a recipe from Fine Cooking (find original recipe here).  I swapped out the oat bran for wheat germ, as the store I was at gave me the inability to locate such bran, if it did indeed carry it.  I also swapped out the raisins for dried cranberries, since we already had those at home.  

I burnt it a little.  Actually, I threw out just under half of it because it was too toasty to eat.  I did make an attempt to adjust cooking time for the high elevation (5280 here in Denver), but apparently cutting down the cooking time by 25 min was not enough.  Must go the full half hour or 35 min to avoid excessive toasty-ness. Lesson learned!  

Result:  Hippie Crack > my granola.  But now that I have the secret ingredients to said hippie crack, I can make my own knock-off version!  And minus the coconut.  Yuck.  I believe that I pulled out the coconut from the original package.  And honestly, mine wasn't too bad!  Try it out for yourself if you like.

Snipets from a Saturday

I've recently decided that I want more photos of my life.  As children, my sisters and I used to pour over the photo albums that our parents had created over the years, from their own childhoods (they were darn cute kids themselves!) to dating, our dad's days of Amy basic training, our mom's hours spend in nursing school.  Then came their wedding, complete with a fantastic photo of our mom's dad holding about 3 empty champagne bottles in each hand, the births of Sarah, Kate, myself, and then Megan.  In between those, we have documentation of birthdays, Sarah's first taste of Leatherby's Ice Cream, and the annual pumpkin picking done in Oma and Opa's backyard (there is one photo in particular where all four of us have almost identical haircuts--the infamous bowl cut.  Super cute in an early 90's type way).

In light of that, I have documented a few things from last Saturday morning. 

There is this really fantastic bakery in the Platte Park neighborhood of Denver.  It's called Buffalo Doughboy Bakery, and is absolutely delicious.  They make some of the best savory croissants I have ever had.  Justin and I went for breakfast last weekend.  Ohman. Sogood.

Look at that brioche!  It had a mildly spicy sausage, lots of spinach, and just enough cheese to glue it all together and give it enough saltiness.

(Also, yes, that is a real-deal bear claw stuffed with almond paste--waaaay better than anything you could find at the donut store.)

Enjoying the grub.

Rumor has it that some computer models are coming out with 3-D and scent technology.  Maybe if you try hard enough,  you can smell these...

Don't we all wish.  Well, you can just come do Denver for a visit and I promise to take you there.

This is a result of what happens when I need to get creative and come up with some sort of wrapping paper.  I had a baby shower to go to this afternoon, but had no sort of wrapping for it.  Thanks to Whole Foods for providing me with the paper bags.  Reduce, reuse, recycle.  Repeat.  Clearly I'm not an art major.  But I can get some points for creativity, right?

Do you have any favorite local bakeries?  Interesting gift-wrapping techniques?

2012: A Year in Review

2012. Whew!  What a year.  Here are some highlights, month by month!

January:  I took the Graduate Record Exam (GRE) in order to get into grad school.  The test only took half the day, but then I spent the other half having fun visiting some friends in the Bay Area.  I finished rewriting and editing an essay on Vampires (don't judge me please, it wasn't any of that Twilight trash, but real Dracula and Carmella type vampires), and turned in my application to University of Colorado at Denver.  *Crossed my fingers and prayed HARD.

February:  Found out I got into grad school and cried.  It was a combination of sheer happiness and complete fear.  I was moving to Denver!  I also threw a half-birthday party since I knew that I wouldn't be in California for my real birthday in August.  My mother had bought me a Pie Contest in a Box set for Christmas, and this was the perfect time to take it out.  My parents and sisters even came up for it, and guess who won--my wonderful Mama!

                                          My Pie Contest Judges--James, Laurel, and Ashley

March:  I started telling people that I actually was moving.  It was both liberating and terrifying.  I also started cleaning out my closet like a madwoman--my sister Kate sent me a link to The Twenty Pieces Project.  I was hooked.  But I knew that I couldn't do only 20 pieces if I moved to Denver, so as of the moment I have 5 items or less of each piece (I think I have about 50 altogether now).  I

reconnected with an old friend from college via the Twenty Pieces Project, where she had written a post about giving up all her clothes.  What a neat connection that I hadn't anticipated! 

                                                                      Goodbye clothes!

April:  I went for a long weekend visit to Seattle to visit some dear friends, Brian & Danielle.  Dani & I had roomed together all of college, and then she and Brian got hitched just after we graduated.  Lucky us, we were blessed with the only sunny weekend the entire month.  If Seattle were sunny year-round, I would be sorely tempted to move.  I also fulfilled something on my bucket list--I was in a parade!  The Apple Blossom Festival Parade of Sebastopol, CA.  Our church had a float for the Vacation Bible School happening in June, and I had the privilege of walking alongside it dressed as a hiker (the theme was National Parks) and handing out fliers and candy.  So fun!

                                         Danielle & Jennifer dropping me off at the airport.

May:  I had my last day as a staff member at Sebastopol Christian Church.  I never thought I would be so sad about leaving a job as I was leaving that church.  It was so full of love, grace, Christ, and hugs.  I still miss it and constantly use it as a standard of what churches should be.

June:  The packing begins.  I'm sure the tears started here, too.  It's almost as if nothing significant happened this month, as I am unable to recall anything....

                                           Ah, here is something!  My sister Megan and our
                                          dad met me at Sol Food in San Rafael--some of the
                                            best Puerto Rican food you will ever eat.

July:  My last day of work at my full-time job was on July 19th.  Never before had I been so thankful to leave a job.  An absolutely crazy boss (not in a fun way, but a I-will-yell-at-you-for-breathing sort of way), but who did teach me to have a thicker skin and stand up for myself when I got yelled at and didn't like it.  My roommates threw me a goodbye party, at which I cried almost the entire time.  My dad came that Friday to have last minute festivities with my roommates at The Ito and to go see Batman.  The next day, I left Sonoma County, spent two days in Sacramento County, and began my journey East to Denver.  Arrived in Englewood, CO, on July 25th.

                                      All my worldly belongings shoved into a small space.

August:  My month of prayer, applications and interviews.  I must have applied to close to a zillion jobs, had over 12 interviews, and 2 job offers within a month.  I turned down the first one like a crazy person--I'm sure the recruiter I was working with thought I was an idiot.  But for some reason or another, there was a funny feeling that I just couldn't ignore.  So I said no.  But thankfully, a week and a half later, a better offer (more money, better hours, closer to home, and a more interesting position) came along and I happily took it.  My dear, sweet roommates (Matt & Amber) also graciously threw me a Welcome to Colorado party AND a birthday party two weeks later with all their friends.  I was like, "Oh-hi-I'm-Tamsen-and-I-have-no-friends-yet.  Wanna ride bikes?"  I'm so thankful for the ways that the Lord has provided a job, friends, and a church.  Oh, and I also adopted a dog!  Meet Pavlov. 

                                                               Isn't he so cute?!

September:  This was the month that I started feeling ever so slightly acclimated to living at a mile high.  **Translation:  Tamsen didn't need a nap every day.  September was also the month I decided to commit to the little church in my neighborhood that I could walk to.  Also full of love, grace, Christ, and hugs.  But much closer to my apartment in Englewood than the distance from my home in Cotati to Sebastopol.

October:  I hiked my first 14er (Quandary Peak, elevation 14,271 ft)!  My new friend Randi asked me to come along with her and to go visit some friends who live near Saint Isabel National Forrest.  We spent the night with the Chelfs in Salida and went for a tour of the Aspens the next day. Absolutely breathtaking.  Never before had I been so amazed at creation.  Aspens are quite a change from the redwoods and oaks of Northern California!

November:  I had my first visitor--Jennifer from San Diego.  Right after she left, I had my first bout of the flu that I could remember.  No fun at all, but I was over it in time for my second-favorite holiday--Thanksgiving!  Thanksgiving served as a marker for my first big holiday away from my family.  But what a Thanksgiving it was!  I baked for 3 days straight (3 pies, bread, and home-made stuffing), went for a bike ride with two friends in downtown Denver in the afternoon, and then invited myself over to a late holiday dinner at a friend's house from church.  On Black Friday there were more Thanksgiving festivities to be had, and 20 of us got together for round two.

                                       And, of course, Pavlov and I got in some great hiking.

December:  December 1st rolled around and I sat in shock when I realized how much happened in the past 11 months.  I experienced my first "real" snowstorm and told my boss that I was going to snowshoe to work the next morning (I wish.  8 miles may be a bit too long for my showshoes' maiden voyage).  It seems like I spent the entire month in anticipation of going home for Christmas--looking forward to all the silly Wright family traditions and seeing all of my sisters together for the first time since March.  Kate had left for the Peace Corps (affectionately know as the Posh Corps for her, being placed in Jamaica), and then Megan and I followed her lead in July to go to Colorado and Texas, respectively.  But Sarah and David are happily holding down the fort (and our parent's sanity, I'm sure) in Sacramento.  Lazing about on the couch, experiencing rain again (something that Denver does not have a lot of), going to the Christmas Tree farm, the Wright Family Holiday Catalog Count, etc.  You can read more about the silly traditions here.  Oh yes, and I finished my first graduate level class with an A-.

                                          Footage of the Catalog Count, Christmas Evening.

And here's to a great 2013, full of adventure and love.

A Month of Thanks II

Friends who visit (and those who are near!)
Last weekend, one of my wonderful roommates from college, Jennifer, came to visit me all the way from sunny San Diego.  Even though the trip was a whirlwind and we packed in a bunch o’ stuff, it was a treat to have my very first visitor.  We traveled down to Colorado Springs so she could visit some old friends while I went to a baby shower, went to my favorite bakery, and got stuck in traffic due to almost all of downtown having road closures because of a parade.  The next day, Jen suffered through an hour and a half at church (being born and raised a Lutheran, she’s used to in-and-out services that only take an hour).  She made it through without too much fidgeting.   Finish that off with a short outdoor adventure and a stop at The Chocolate Therapist for chocolate (duh) and coffee, her trip was almost over and I took her to the airport.  I am thankful that I live in a cool enough place that friends want to visit. 

Also, I am thankful for dear new friends who are nearby.  And those who let me invite myself to their Thanksgiving festivities (that’s a shout out to you, Brandon & Val).  And those who so warmly invited me into their communities and adopted a strange girl from NorCal  (the lovely Kerns et. al., Melissa, and Randi, to name a few).  I am thankful for my friends from far away and those who are near.

Health

This may be a no-brainer, but seriously.  I am SO thankful for my health. Why, you ask?  Well because I caught the plague last week and was a big baby.  And by the plague I mean the flu.  But honestly, if I go to a baby shower the weekend before and 8+ women come down with it, does that not constitute as a plague?  Anyway, I spend two and a half days migrating from my bed to the bathroom so I could throw up, then to the guest bed in our loft (in the super-logical state of my fever-racked mind the first night of illness, I realized that heat rises and that the loft would be warmer than my bedroom.  And that there would be two extra blankets up there that I could add to my count of two).  I also spent a record amount of time on the couch, sleeping, watching trashy TV, and also finding some comfort in my favorite Disney movie, Alice in Wonderland.  I am thankful that I no longer have to have a trashcan near me at all times and that I can sleep without waking up to vomit.  I am thankful for my health.

Bobby Pins

I seriously don’t know how I would handle my hair without these God-given contraptions.   I am thankful for bobby pins.

Cheap Flights

Being an adult sometimes sucks.  Because when the holidays come around, you don’t get a full week off at Thanksgiving.  Nor do you get two off at Christmas.  What a travesty!  No, instead of two weeks, I get five days (although I realize that is quite a blessing in and of itself).  The flight home for Christmas was not cheap at all, and I’m fairly certain I was a victim of highway robbery. But on the other hand, Southwest bought its way back into my affections by having flights in January and February 40% off if you flew on a Tuesday or a Wednesday.  Five more days spent at home with family and friends?  Yes please.  I am thankful for cheap flights.

Aaaaand my Bible.

Even though it is true, I felt a little redundant putting my church on the list two weeks in a row.   But I am super-thankful for my Bible, a wonderfully worn-out dirt brown Revised Standard Version printed in the 70’s.  A gift of my sister Kate on my 17^th birthday.  Missing the awful, cheesy caricatures of a white Jesus (I cut them out—last time I checked Jesus was from the Middle East and didn’t have blue eyes and sandy brown hair).  But still full of wisdom, peace, grace, justice, and conviction.  I am thankful for my Bible and the ways it shows me a bigger picture of God.

Psalm 34:8
O taste and see that the LORD is good; How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!

November, A Month of Thanks

Not only is November fabulous because it means turkey and pumpkins galore, in Colorado it also means snow!  October brought us two snowy days, and hopefully we will be getting more soon.  I told one of my co-workers last time it snowed that this is how I imagined Narnia to look like (well, minus all the roads, cars, and buildings).

Also, it is the month with one of my favorite holidays--Thanksgiving!  In light of this fact, I want to be more intentional and reflective of what I am thankful for each week, the big and the little.

Here are some things I have been thankful for recently:

-It's Friday, people!  And to make things even better, my boss is giving us a new options for schedules.  If we want to take half an hour for lunch for four days a week instead of the usual 1 hour, we can get done at 3PM on Fridays.  Yes please.  It makes me feel more excited than Rebecca Black on a Friday.

-I was at the thrift store shopping for my Halloween costume and decided to peruse through some of the records.  I found one of my all-time favorite jazz albums in perfect condition.  I immediately bought it.

-Even through all this dumb election mail (okay, the election is not dumb, I just can't stand all the ads that I get as a new voter in a swing state; although I am very excited that my vote actually counts for something here), I have gotten some pretty good mail recently:  a letter from my dad, a card from Bethany, my subscription to The Economist, and also a bunch of nerdy bookmarks from Mental Floss.

-Last Sunday at church, our pastor gave a sermon in our series of Ephesians that kicked my butt.  I went straight home, packed a backpack and grabbed the dog, and then drove out to Jefferson County for some quiet and contemplative hiking.  Not only did I get exercise, but also got to see some pretty country and work through some good/hard stuff.  It was a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Obedience; Alternatively titled, And I Cried.

I just watched and episode of The Office.  And I cried.

It is the one where Michael Scott, the boss, leaves.  Ironically, he too moves to Colorado, but from Pennsylvania instead of California.  He hates goodbyes, and so tells everyone that he is leaving the day after he actually is, and tells most people in the office goodbye in his own secret and undetected way.  I cried most of the episode.

It's been a bit of an odd day emotionally.  In the morning, I kept on thinking about how happy I was living in Colorado, how pretty it is here, etc.  Then, I got to see a friend from high school.  And I cried.  Because, as I drove away, I realized how much I appreciated her in my life.  And when I got home from work I got a note in the mail from one of my old roommates.  And I cried.  Because I realized how much I stinkin' miss her.

I didn't go into work until noon because Aimee was in town for a very short while and I wanted to see her.  She has been living abroad since just after graduating college, working in Cambodia with an organization that combats human trafficking in South East Asia.  An aunt of hers lives in Broomfield, CO, which is just north of Denver.  We met halfway and had some decadent pancakes at Snooze.

Aimee had asked me about my journey to Colorado, what got me interested in it, how I felt like God lead me there, my long journey of obedience to go East.  It was great to catch up, to talk about living abroad in both Cambodia and Colorado, what it means to steward our money and time well, how we both want to be married, what the Lord is leading us to now as well as possibilities in the future. 

As we talked over a plate of fancy pancakes and coffee, she said to me, "Tamsen, it sounds like you are really happy.  I'm so glad!"  Well, she is right.  I am happy.  I thought of that even this morning when I was driving to see her.  I picked up an old dream and moved to Colorado.  It may seem crazy, but I left a house of wonderful roommates, a church that I could not love more, and a job that on most days I liked as long as the crazy boss didn't yell at anyone.  All these things were left for something new and unpredictable.  I followed Jesus straight to Colorado.

And now, I love my roommates.  I am so thankful for Matt and Amber and the way they put up with my eccentric habits and taking over the kitchen table for the weekend to sew.  I love my church.  I am so thankful for the way they love people and show the grace that Jesus gives.  I love my job.  I am so thankful that my boss (as well as the others ) are kind and patient with the new girl.

But it still doesn't mean that I don't desperately miss the things of home.  My family, the house my parents live in, the way that the tractor from the peach orchard wakes me up on summer as it rolls past my bedroom on the corner, the way that there is never enough room in the kitchen for my sisters and I to talk with our parents as they cook dinner in the kitchen.  I miss the ecstatically nerdy conversations my family gets into, because every one of us is excited and curious about practically anything and everything.

I miss the Bay Area, the morning fog and overcast days.  I miss my roommates on Robin Ave., our silly little dog and smelly rabbit.  I miss the spontaneity of living with two ENFPs, walking to Oliver's Market after dark because we wanted dessert, and talking about how Tama Rama's in downtown Cotati most likely is a drug front, not a creepy ice cream shop.  I miss getting hugs from Holly and Eve at church, and the cute way that our pastor's second child never seems to walk anywhere, but instead he does a  wide-eyed run with a huge grin on his face.

Obedience is a strange thing.  It brings mixed feelings of joy and sadness.  As we say yes to one thing, we must in turn say no to another.  As I said hello to Colorado, my goodbye to California was lurking over my shoulder.  As much as I wanted to skip it altogether, like the way Michael did, it was good to close that chapter of my life.  I am glad that I didn't.  Most days are good because I know that where I am is undeniably where God wants me to be--not once have I doubted that.  But on days when you miss your home(s), it makes being joyfully obedient a bit harder. 

Obedience is the road to freedom.
C.S. Lewis

From California to Colorado--First Impressions

Well People, I've done it--I have officially settled into life in Colorado.  Livin' the dream.  What a terrifying thought (and don't worry, exciting as well)!  Really, who is letting me leave a wonderful area of the best state in the Union to live, great roommates, a job that I liked on most days, being only a two hour car ride away from (almost) all of my family, and a church that I loved so dearly? 

Is that what being an adult means?  Doing crazy things like leaving a perfectly good life for the fogginess of the unknown?

Instead of being crazy and writing 30 pages on my transition, I will boil it down to a list of things that have transpired since I have been here.

1.  I cought a cold the day before we were supposed to leave, so my mom drove the entire 9 hours the first day.  I slept over half of this in the car.

2.  The second day of driving, we drove almost an hour and a half...in the wrong direction.  Nothing like an adventure!

3.  I had to ask Utah for forgiveness.  I lead most of my life assuming that it was a big ol' ugly state with nothing but dessert for miles and miles and miles.  We took Highway 50 and had a very different experience.  Utah is beautiful.

4.  We arrived on a Wednesday afternoon, and by Thursday night I was completely unpacked with photos on my walls.

5.  Living with married people is really fun.  I already knew this from living with my parents and my roommates from last year, but I think there is something special about being able to see your friends' marriage in close proximity.

6.  Matt and Amber threw me a Welcome to Colorado! party and invited a whole bunch of their friends over to meet me.  We watched the strange Opening Ceremony of the Olympics, had desserts, and played some fun group games to get over the awkwardness of meeting someone new.

7.  I've learned how to drive in Colorado.  Apparently streets are not just streets...they are highways as well. 

8.  My old roommates Skyped me earlier this week and I cried because I missed them so much.

9.  Not having a job right now is both awesome and lame at the same time.  I literally can do whatever I want, but unfortunately I am forced to think of money that I shouldn't spend if I don't have any coming in.

10.  But because of that, I have found lots of different free things to do in the Denver area.  I went to the Denver Art Museum (the DAM) this Saturday because it was free admission, and I saw a seminar given by designer Fallene Wells who was a contestant on Project Runway last summer.  True Confessions:  Project Runway is one of my all-time favorite shows and it makes me want to be a designer.

11.  Including this week and last week, I will have had a total of 5 job interviews.  Hopefully one of them pulls through.

12.  I've learned I don't want to work in a large, corporate job.  I interviewed with a gas & oil company, and walked back to my car praying that I wouldn't get a call back.  Really not my style.

13.  It's neat to look at semi-familiar things with new eyes--finding a new church in particular.  I've only been to two so far, but it feels like I'm getting a bigger picture of how God works through many many many more modes than I remembered.  Its a beautiful thing.

14.  This whole rain-in-the-summer thing is a bit wild.  I don't know what to wear.

15.  I went to church this Sunday with friends of my roommates, and they asked me to have lunch with them and hang out with them at their house afterwards.  I didn't realize how long we were sitting there and talking, and in the meantime, Amber text messaged and called me to see if I was still alive.  Upon returning home about 3 hours after I was expected, I informed her that I was "Hanging out with my new besties."  She responded by scolding me.  "What?!  They are not your new besties.  What does that make Matt and me?  Chopped liver?!"  We all got a good laugh out of that one.

16.  Even though I don't have a job yet and have very few friends, the sense of peace that I've been given has been pleasantly overwhelming.  I keep on going back to the passage in Luke 12, where Jesus is teaching about anxiety:

Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat, nor about your body, what you shall put on.  For life is more than food, and the body is more than clothing.  Consider the ravens:  they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouses nor barns, and yet God feeds them.   Of how much more value are you than the birds!

It's also helpful that I have been finding feathers over the past year when I have been anxious about moving.  A good and constant reminder that He is able.

Stay tuned for more updates!

Photo courtesy of  www.dailymail.co.uk.

In Case of Fire, Break All Attachment to Material Possessions

I've been thinking a lot lately about the things that I own. Much of it has been a part of my journey to live more simplistically, but more recently it has been packing to move halfway across the country (Colorado, here I come!). My hope is that I can fit everything (including books, and sans furniture) into my car!

My thoughts have gone even further recently because of the fires that are happening in my future home state. California is no stranger to fire, but this time I know someone whose home was lost in the fires near Colorado Springs (they are dear friends of my future housemates Matt and Amber). The family was evacuated last week, and then on Monday or Tuesday they were allowed by police escort to go in and get what they would need for the next two weeks. I can only imagine what they were thinking as they riffled through their home.

If I were caught in a similar situation and could only bring 10-ish items with me, I would grab the following things:

1. My Oma's teacups. My Oma immigrated to the States in 1958 a few moths after marrying my Opa. Clearly, she didn't have much packing room, and brought very little with her. But a few years ago for Christmas, she bestowed upon me the two teacups that she brought over from Germany with her. I opened the box and saw them, not knowing their stories. But as I pulled them out, she explained. Every time I pack up to move, I always think of her and how brave she was to do such a crazy thing as fall in love, get married, and move across the world.

2. The toy box my dad built me. When we were kids, our dad built each of us a toy box. They didn't always serve as toy boxes--mine held junk for years, Sarah's and Kate's both were the phone and address book holders for a long time, and Megan's was chock-full of stuffed animals. I would happily sacrifice every bit of craft and fabric stuff that was in there currently to the fire, as long as I could keep the box.

3. My computer. This really has little sentimental value. It would just be a pain in the butt to replace. It really only gets on the list because I think past my car, it is the most expensive thing I own.

4. Snoopy. I remember getting Snoopy at three and a half. It was Christmas, and we were at Oma and Opa's house. I also had received a suitcase that year that said "Goin' to Grandma's!" on it, and I tried stuffing Snoopy in the suitcase (clearly, they should go to Grandma's together). But, try as I may, he would not fit, no matter how I shoved or squashed or sat. My uncle was sitting nearby laughing at me, and I got mad and quit. True confessions--I still sleep with a stuffed animal. I'm quite uncomfortable without him under my right arm.

5. My sewing machine. This also may be top of the list of expensive things that I own, and would be a pain in the butt to replace. And it's less than two years old!

6. My Tante Trita's necklaces. My great-aunt was an enthusiast of many things, and her adoring husband indulged her often. A few years after she passed away, her husband was cleaning house and was sending boxes and boxes of things to my Oma. She invited the granddaughters over to have at it. She had some of the most beautiful and unique jewelry that I have ever seen, and I would be very sad to lose it.

7. The box full of my old journals. Not very often do I go back and read them, but when I do it is always a bit embarrassing because I realize how self-centered I am. It's also funny to see the melodrama from high school and thank the Lord that I am (hopefully) over similar issues. Well, at least now I don't have to worry about my date to prom.

8. My Bible. My dear sister Kate got this for me on my 17th birthday. It's an ugly poop-brown color, and currently the spine is peeling itself away from the front cover. But the amount of time I have spend reading it, how my fingers know the roads to my favorite passages, the weight of it in my hand and on my lap, the coffee stains from when I spilled an entire cup on it in Costa Rica, nothing could ever replace the amount of comfort that precise Bible brings me. At one point in time, it had cheesy pictures of Jesus with children and lambs scattered throughout it, but one day I took a razor to it and cut them out. They were a little on the creepy side, and I got tired of looking at a white, blue-eyed Jesus. Apparently the artist forgot that Jesus was Middle-Eastern.

9. My box of old letters and cards. Much like my journals, I don't go back and read them often, but the times that I do mean a lot to me. They include the last birthday card my Grandma Barbara gave me before she passed away, one from one of my Freshman year roommates, various silly cards from my parents, birthday cards, etc.

10. Finally, down to the practical things. I would pack one large gym bag full of clothes and shoes. Which ones, you ask? Not sure. But then I could finally participate in the true Twenty Pieces Project. Now I'm in the 30-50 club. If there was a fire, I could totally do the 20.

Walking Alongside Abraham

Ever since graduating from college at the ripe old age of 21 in 2009, I have time and time again been memorized with the story of Abraham. The first time that I really dove into his journey was the fall of 2009. I was interning with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship at Sonoma State and feeling a little lost. Not because I didn't find joy in what I did, but rather because it felt like after June of the upcoming year, I had no direction. When I would talk to my student leaders about the school part of their lives, when they would ask me to edit their papers the night before being due, when they would complain about having to go to class or doing a project last minute, I truly envied them. My heart so yearned to be in education, but I think my head just had a hard time figuring that out. The next few months I spend pouring over Abraham. The more I read about him, the more I realized that Abraham was only the start of something big. He was obedient to where the Lord called him, whether it be Haran, Gamorrah, or Egypt. His wife laughed when he told her of the promised son. But he remained faithful. In December of 2009, I attended InterVarsity's student missions conference, Urbana (I will shamelessly put in a plug for them now--if you have the chance, either go or volunteer at a conference. They really are life-changing). Through the mixture of my own reading of Abraham, the conference scripture study of John 1-4, and lots of prayer, I really felt like God was asking me to trust Him and leave Sonoma county. At this point, I had been there for five years. For the majority of the time, my friends were of the same group, and I had attended the same church. My world had been a little on the small side, and God was telling me it was time to head out and grow. Abraham and I got real close at this point--I was going without a destination or a time frame of when I was supposed to leave. We see that in Genesis 12 Abraham goes as the Lord tells him, and it was my desire to do the same. The past two and a half years have been spent in this haze--knowing that one day I will be leaving, not quite sure where to, and hopefully attending graduate school on my way. It is as if I was a ephemeral transient waiting for the wind to blow me somewhere else, but a mysterious tie would not let me move. Last year when all four of my roommates graduated and moved away, I ached to go with them. My feet got itchy to move, to have change. Clearly, it was not time. But, now it is. I have applied and been accepted to the University of Colorado at Denver, for the MA program in Rhetoric and the Teaching of Writing. My dreams of living in Denver and becoming a professor are on their way to becoming true! It all started to line up this past summer--I had two wonderful friends get hitched and move to Littleton, a suburb just outside of Denver. One day as I was sitting alone in my apartment, I was haphazardly researching MA program and this one came up. And really, it was like a dream come true. The next time I talked to my friends, I told them about the program and they told me that if I chose to go, I could live with them. People that I work with have connections with companies in Denver and are going to help me network for a job. My current roommates have someone who is wanting to fill my space in the house. My pastor has a connection with another pastor in Littleton who has offered to help me find a church. On top of all these things, my pastor had just started a sermon series on the Life of Abraham. It seemed like a very appropriate way to end my time in Sonoma County, as if my journey to find a destination, no matter how temporary it may be, has come full circle. The journey has both started and will end with Abraham's example of faith and trust in the Lord. May we all learn to be more like Abraham, but ultimately may he point the direction to Christ.

Twenty Pieces?! Are These People Crazy?!

My dear sister Kate knows me well. She knows that I:

-love simplicity
-am easily inspired
-probably have too many clothes for my own good
-am always up for a challenge

Thanks to her, I have a new project. Simplifying my closet.

Now, its not really all that bad. I had a four-drawer Rubbermaid "dresser" that I store exercise clothes, socks, t-shirts, shorts, and unmentionables in. My hanging clothes take up only half a closet, since I am 24 and still share a room (yes, by choice. I think having my own room gets lonely!). Oh, and did I mention my "dresser" fits in my closet, too? Yeah.

But Kate turned me onto the 20 Pieces Project. In their own words, "The Twenty Pieces Project is the newest endeavor of Julie Barrios and Cate MacDonald, two writers, spiritual directors, friends, and SoCal girls looking to live outside the siren song of materialism and consumerism." "The basic premise of the project is this: live for one year with only twenty items of clothing and no shopping."

Sounds crazy, right?

Apparently I am crazy. I figure, why the heck not? I'm all for living outside the siren song of materialism and consumerism. But I really do love clothes. I love fabric. The way it feels, the way it falls on a particular garment, the way that my favorite pair of jeans have been worn into one of the most perfect textiles on the face of the planet. I love the nostalgia that comes with various pieces of clothing. I still have a pair of khaki Bermuda shorts from Old Navy that I bought when I was a sophomore in high school (yup, that was 9 years ago). Then there is my often-coveted brown tweed coat that my friend Taylor told me she claimed dibs on if I were ever to bring it to a clothing exchange or give it up. I have a Boston Red Socks shirt from one of my college roommates, Danielle, who wore it the first week that we lived together and told me that she was going to move to Boston right after she graduated. And she did. And as she was packing to move, the shirt was in her dump pile. How could I let that one go? Does parting with these treasures mean parting with the memories associated with them? Am I sounding like a packrat yet?

Thankfully, the 20 Pieces Project is, much like the rest of my life, a process. I think that I would go crazy if I tried to cut my closet cold turkey. Anyway, I did my first clean out this week. Phase I looks like this:



(By the way, that is my favorite pair of jeans hanging out at the top of the pile. I figured I should probably keep ones that were in better shape and would actually last me a year.)

Believe it or not, there are 40 items in that pile.

6: t shirt
5: dress
4: each of jeans, tank tops
3: each of shorts, work shirts, over-sized t-shirts, skirts and longsleeve exercise shirts
2: workout pants
1: each of vest, PJ pants, jacket, sweater

Wow. I find it amazing that I am tossing out 40 items, and it wasn't nearly as hard as I anticipated the first round to be. I don't know if I can really bear down to the minimum of 20 items, but I would at least want to have the same number of clothes remaining in my closet as a final number be the same as the first round cleanup.

Goal: 40 items (or fewer) in my closet at the end of March. Updates to follow.

In the meantime, onward to simplicity.


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