Joyful Simplicities

A couple of months ago, I mentioned a book I bought many years ago called Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy by Sarah Ban Breathnach. I wrote about how the author of that book challenges the reader to make a list of at least 5 things you are thankful for each day. I credit that book for being one reason why I tend to look on the bright side of things most of the time. That’s not what this post is about though. The book is set up by months, and at the end of each month, there is a list called “Joyful Simplicities for October” or whatever month. The idea is to pick a few things to think about or enjoy each month…things you may not have thought of. This post is inspired by that list. Since I am so bad at writing here on a regular basis, I thought it might be fun to sit down every Sunday and write about little things I enjoyed, things that made me smile, throughout the previous week. Well, I doubt I’ll do it every Sunday because it’s pretty clear that I suck at doing anything on a regular basis. In fact, just writing that I will do this every Sunday probably just ensured that I won’t. I guess I should say instead that on certain Sundays when the moon and stars align just the right way, giving me the time and the inspiration to write, THEN I will write about the joyful simple things in my life. How’s that?
To start this possible Sunday tradition off…I have oodles of simple and some not so simple things to be overjoyed by.
This is the big one…the big kahuna of joyful simplicities! Remember last January when I wrote about how 2011 was going to be the year I finished my living room, and it then I wrote this December that I didn’t? Well, gimme a drumroll here…

My living room is ALMOST finished!
The week between Christmas and New Years, which is a vacation week for me, I got my butt in gear and finally finished peeling off the old, yucky wallpaper. It was quite an undertaking, and even with a steamer, I said lots of bad words and almost destroyed the drywall. I thought Tony was going to die when he saw what I had done, but that stuff had become part of the drywall and there was no other way to remove it. I thought he would end up having to cut out the drywall on the top part of the room and start all over, but he said it could be repaired. He couldn’t get to it, and since I was on a roll and anxious to finish the room, I decided to do the mud repair work myself. I don’t like to brag, but I did a damn fine job. Tony said I even did a better job than HE would have done. I think the key to my success was this handy little professional tool I used to spread the mud…my Wilton frosting spreader. I’m not very good at decorating cakes, but that little spatula sure came in handy.

Here are a few pictures:
What my living room has looked like for the last 2 years and 8 months:




What the walls looked like when I was finished destroying them:



And what my room looks like now:



It’s still not put back together, but I am so happy with how it turned out. The white trim has been given a new pristine coat of enamel paint, the walls are a soothing gray, and now I am ready to take on the rest of the downstairs that also needs to be painted. Let’s hope this burst of painting energy lasts.

Onward…I have many more joyful simplicities to write about…and this is way too long already.

Homemade cinnamon rolls.
6 pans of them to be exact. This is before they were finished rising and baking. I didn't take a picture of the finished rolls...everyone ate them too fast.



I made them yesterday morning. All 6 pans are gone. Well, I gave one pan to a friend, but my family ate the rest. I only ate one. (Not one roll…one PAN). Yikes. I can’t believe I just said that, but yes. Over the past 2 days, I ate 8 cinnamon rolls. Smack some sense into me and sign me up for Weight Watchers.

A 60 degree day in the middle of January.
Really, what can be more joyful than that? Just when I was starting to think that maybe Al Gore is right…the weather turned and 12 hours later, it was 9 degrees and we had snow and ice on the ground. Yes, 12 hours. At 5:00 PM on Wednesday, it was 58. At 5 AM on Thursday, it was 9 and school was cancelled. Gotta love St. Louis. You certainly don’t get bored with the weather.

What is better than a good book?
NOTHING! Well, that’s not true…a beach vacation in the middle of winter is better than a good book. Winning the lottery would definitely be better than a good book. But, in MY world, a good book is one of life’s simplest pleasures. Last week, I downloaded a book onto the Kindle that I got for Christmas because it was a freebie, and it sounded interesting. It was MORE than interesting, it was an incredible book called The Secret Holocaust Diaries. I am a history buff anyway, and both historical fiction and non fiction about World War II is my favorite period to read about. I could not put this book down.

I made omelets for the first time ever.
I have always wanted to make omelets, but have always been a bit afraid of them. Funny, I can make homemade cinnamon rolls but omelets scared me. I got an omelet pan for Christmas, and just this morning made everyone omelets for breakfast. My first few attempts weren’t the best. Justin got one first because he was getting ready to leave to go work on a school project at a friend’s house. While he gave the omelet high praise for taste…actually, he said it was ‘amazing’ and better than a Denny’s omelet...it didn’t really LOOK like an omelet. I put too much of the filling in it then couldn’t flip it over, so it really ended up looking more like a big pile of scrambled eggs with ham and cheese mixed in. Each omelet after that looked better, and by the time I got to the last one, Tony’s, I think I had the technique perfected, and I made a perfectly flipped over omelet chock full of lots of yummy stuff. The only thing I haven’t perfected yet is keeping the bottom from browning while making sure the inside is fully cooked. Fortunately, Tony likes his eggs with a bit of browned parts, so he gave it 2 thumbs up. Lauren moaned while she was eating hers, so I guess my first experience at omelet making was a success.
Check it out:



A haircut.
Not much makes me feel better than an hour or so at the hair salon. Especially when it’s a good haircut. Today wasn’t one of those good haircut days. In fact, the hair cut is pretty crappy, perhaps the worst one I’ve had for a long time, and I hate it, but it was joyful anyway thanks to the gal who cut my hair. I couldn’t get in to my normal stylist, I was desperate for a cut, so I let someone else do it.
Big mistake. Big big big mistake. Colossal mistake.

The best thing about it? I was smart enough to tell someone who’d never cut my hair before that I wanted it “trimmed” and that I like the layers on top to be “on the longish side.”
Whew. It’s a good thing I didn’t say “I need a good CUT!”
She did way more than trim. It is SHORT. Very short. From the back, I’m not sure I will even be able to wrap the hair around a curling iron. So short that my husband, who rarely notices what I do to my hair, even when it goes from salt and pepper gray to shiny, highlighted blonde said 2 seconds after he saw me: “Wow. Your hair is really short.”
Yeah. It's really really short.

The layers on top that I clearly told her I like to be on the ‘longish’ side? Well, those particular layers are about 3 inches long. They were down to my ears before. She cut more off than the length they are now.
But. There is always a but, right?
The girl was delightful. And adorable. But not in the ways you are probably thinking.
To be honest, when she walked up to me in the waiting area while I was paging through a hairstyle magazine and said, “Are you Rose?” I came this >< close to saying, “NO!” and leaving.

My first impression was definitely not of a delightful, adorable girl. Oh no! My first thought was, “NO WAY in h-e-double hockey sticks is someone with spikey pink hair TOUCHING my hair!”
Yes. I said spikey, pink hair. Not just pink…but shocking, bright pink. With medium pink and pastel pink highlights. Actually as my time sitting in her chair went on, I couldn’t help but think that person who had transformed her hair into this spikey pink confection was actually quite talented to get all of those shades of pink that blended just right. I became fascinated by her hair. It was a pink work of art for sure.
The pink hair wasn’t all.
She was also tattooed all over her arms.
She had multiple piercings. And not just in her ears.
She had a 4 inch long cone-shaped piece of clear plastic, or clear something anyway, through one of her earlobes. I was fascinated by that as well. I couldn’t decide if I should look at her hair or that huge thing protruding from her earlobe. And I kept hoping I was being discreet and that she didn’t notice me staring at either of those things. I also couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to her earlobe if she got caught in a windstorm.
But, that all said, she was a lovely girl. She was sweet, and funny, and actually, she was really cute. I found myself wondering what she looked like before she tattooed and pierced herself and turned her hair into a style and color that Pink herself would be envious of.
I wondered what her mother thinks of her.
She brought me joy for another reason. I couldn’t help but be envious of her. Not because I want tattoos and giant holes in my ears and bright pink spikey hair. When I left the salon, I thought about how very nice it would be to have so much confidence in myself and the person that I am that I could go out in public every day looking like that. Not that I would want to mind you. I’m embarrassed when I go out in public wearing sweats and no makeup and run into someone I know who I haven’t seen for a very long time. Which also happened to me today, unfortunately, after I got the very bad haircut. That story will have to be for another time.

I don’t have a picture of the cute pink haired tattooed pierced girl who cut my hair. I also don’t have a picture of my horrible haircut. No one would want to see that, but unfortunately, I can’t hibernate. I am wishing that I could, though. I have stuck my head under the kitchen faucet twice already trying to find a way to style my new haircut so that it looks decent. I haven't found a way yet.

I need to wind this down because my family thinks they need to eat. I told them I already cooked once today, what more do they want??? Didn’t work.

One other joyful thing and then I will be done.
After I left pink hair tattoo girl, I went grocery shopping. I bought this cute little bottle to put dish soap in.


I thought looking at this fat chef sitting on my kitchen sink everyday might remind me to stop baking and eating so much so I don’t become a fat chef myself. Or at least a fatter one. We shall see if it works. I’m not very optimistic about that. He may end up suffering the same fate as my little Serenity angel...shoved in a drawer.