little black journal

Seeing as how I succeeded in making good on almost all of my 2012 resolutions (damn you, Economist!), I’m doing the resolution thing again, hoping 2013 is another year of growth and fulfillment.

Sabbath more intentionally.  As much as I adore our quiet Sunday afternoons at home, I want more out of them.  More restoration.  More introspection.  More preparation for the busy week ahead.  I’m on board with Nance in her belief in the life-giving power of a true Sabbath.  I want to make sure that I’m resting with intention – not just holing up and zoning out.  This might still mean a hard-core nap, or an epic reading binge on the couch, but it also means turning everything off for a little while and asking Shane how I can pray for him.  It means opening my journal and processing my anxieties and joys as I put pen to paper.  Letting the quiet drown out the noise.

Be more involved in managing our money.  Shane has always been the finance guy in our house, paying the bills and managing our investments.  I’ve been A-OK with that – I completely trust him and am not that interested right now in knowing how our Roth IRAs are doing.  But after sitting down with him on Saturday and sorting through our 2012 purchases on mint.com, I’m seeing the value of setting a budget together, checking in regularly and really looking at where our money is going (and where we want it go).  Turns out I might have a weakness for shoes and Shane might have a weakness for expensive cocktails…  These things aren’t exactly surprises, and they aren’t exactly bad, but it’s important to understand how they add up.

Make art.  Regularly.  2012 was kind of a creative wasteland.  I didn’t draw or paint much, I didn’t make it into the print studio even once.  And I missed it – it was disappointing and discouraging and draining to be so out of touch with my artistic self.  So I’m back on the horse this year – I have registered for a screen printing class to kick-start things and have the highest of hopes for a year full of inspiration and productivity.

Cook dinner at least four nights a week.  Last year we set out to try new restaurants; this year I’m setting out to cook new things.  I have joked about how often we eat cereal for dinner, but it’s actually not that funny – more evenings than I’d like to admit, Shane is tearing into the Puffins and I’m smearing an apple with peanut butter and telling myself that’s a legitimate source of protein.  The breakdown seems to be in the planning stages – if we have a menu, I absolutely don’t mind being in the kitchen and preparing a meal.  If we don’t have a plan, this happens:  -“What do you want for dinner?” -“I dunno.  What do you want?”  -“I dunno.  Raisin Bran with a side of Wheat Thins?”  Ahhhh!  This has got to stop.  Good news is, we’re currently on a roll – three straight nights of healthy homemade meals!  General Mills stock might plummet.

In addition to my traditional list of resolutions, my mom has encouraged me to enter this year with a theme in a mind – a word that will focus my mission and attitude for 2013.  I’ve thought about this a lot over the last few days – what do I want the bigger picture to look like, beyond my list of practicalities?  This has been a harder exercise than I imagined – probably because I wanted so badly to come up with something original and complex and deep, but kept circling back to something obvious and super-simple.  So I’m going to stop overthinking this and start dwelling on a message of hope.  God and I have gone round and round over this matter in the past couple of years.  I’ve prayed fervently for hope, he’s tried to give it to me, and then I’ve politely turned it away and locked up my heart, telling him thank you, but I changed my mind and would like peace, or forgiveness, or acceptance instead. Because hope is scary – it makes you vulnerable and open to all kinds of disappointment and hurt.  And it prompts you to challenge the status-quo – relationships could be richer, work could be more meaningful, big BIG things could possible if you shed that cloak of doubt and complacency.  So here’s to a grand 2013, full of hopes and dreams and all manners of bright and shining miracles.

We’re in the midst of another super-quiet weekend at home, and between the naps and the football games, I’ve been spending some time thinking about what I want to do better in 2013 (less naps, maybe?  pshhhhhh…).  But before I solidify my goals, I’m taking a look back at how I did in 2012.  High-fives and for resolutions kept and head-hanging for resolutions broken…

Read the Bible in its entirety.  Score!  Our reading plan wraps up tomorrow with the final chapters in Revelations, at which point Shane and I will have read the whole Bible chronologically.  This is pretty huge for both of us, as we typically struggle with taking the initiative to delve into God’s word outside of Sunday morning service or Tuesday evening c-group.  There were days when reading felt like a total chore (hello, 1 and 2 Chronicles), but there were other times when a day’s reading gave me a perfectly-timed nugget of encouragement or hope.  While it may be awhile before I return to much of the Old Testament, I’ll carry some aspect of this rhythm into 2013.

Catch up with a friend over coffee every week or two.  I am so, so thankful for way some of my friendships continue to deepen.  But I’ve let other people drift away.  I remember a couple of particularly meaningful afternoons spent pouring my heart out to a girlfriend over a cup of tea.  I also remember those weekends I let my introverted tendencies prevail and chose to hole up rather than reach out.  Building relationships is hard; sometimes it’s awkward and inconvenient and wrought with fear of vulnerability.  Tough crap.  I have to believe that it’s always, always worth it.

Check out one new (to us) Seattle restaurant each month.  Given my continued ineptitude for meal planning, this one was easy-peasy.  Seattle holds so many alternatives to cereal for dinner!  Stand-out finds include Kedai Makan at the Broadway and CC Markets for killer Malaysian food, La Carta de Oaxaca for tacos al pastor, Il Corvo for lunchtime hand-made pasta, and Bottlehouse for wine and cheese.  Oh, and Hot Cakes in Ballard for a serious chocolate over-dose.  We have yet to find anything that trumps the sense of “home” we find at Tutta Bella and Columbia City Bakery, but that’s alright.  No shame in staying true to our ‘hood’s best pizza and scones.

Read the Economist leaders each week.  Total fail.  I think I made it through two issues and then threw my hands up in overwhelmed frustration.  We do watch 60 Minutes most Sundays and I get the top headlines from the Today Show on the mornings I spend on the gym’s treadmill, but that feels like a pretty sorry substitute for quality journalism.  I’m going to give the online version of NY Times a shot, and I’ll continue to pester Shane with questions about world affairs, but being a well-informed American has the makings of loooong-term goal.

Juice at least once a week.  B+.  I’ve been pretty diligent about gulping down my green stuff once or twice a week.  I can’t say it’s magic – there were still times this year when I battled colds or fatigue, but all in all, I’ve felt pretty good and any bouts of sickness seemed to leave the premises once I started pushing those lemons and dark greens through the Breville.  I think I can move this one from “resolution” to “habit” – there’s no going back to the days of Minute Maid!

It was a mixed-bag kind of year, and I’m sure 2013 will prove to be no different.  But I’m a little healthier, a little closer to God, a little more fulfilled in my friendships and my city than I was twelve months ago – I’ll call that a resolutionary success.

I’m finding our TV is on less and less these days, as Shane and I prefer more and more to spend our evenings on the couch with a couple of good books.  I’ve always wanted to be one of those couples that reads together and talks about books and finally, here we are – we’re livin’ the dream, folks (maybe 30 years prematurely, but whatever).  I finished 18 books in 2012 from a decently wide range of genres.  There were a couple of knocked-my-socks-off good reads, a couple of major disappointments, and a pile of perfect pals for Sunday afternoons on the back porch (or the blanket-laden couch, as of late).

Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

The Stolen Child by Keith Donohue

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption by Laura Hillenbrand

God Behaving Badly:Is the God of the Old Testament Angry, Sexist and Racist? by David T. Lamb

The Middle Place by Kelly Corrigan

Milkweed by Jerry Spinelli

An Atlas of Impossible Longing by Anuradha Roy

Still: Notes on a Mid-Faith Crisis by Lauren Winner

Mission to Paris by Alan Furst

Life of Pi by Yann Martel

Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter by Tom Franklin

No Biking in the House Without a Helmet by Melissa Fay Greene

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

11/22/63 by Steven King

Best books of 2012:  Two-way tie between The Book Thief and Unbroken, because they both brought me joy and sadness in equal measure, and damn if I’m not a sucker for a book that makes me actually feel something.  First runner-up goes to Still: Notes on a Mid-Faith Crisis, for all of Lauren Winner’s nuggets of spiritual wisdom.

Worst book of 2012:  The Night Circus.  This one had been on my to-read list for awhile, and it left me completely underwhelmed.  It had all the potential in the world to be beautiful and moving and completely fantastical, but…blah.  And bah humbug.

On the docket for 2013:  Those 850 pages of Steven King’s time travel page-turner derailed me a bit, so I’m still working on my 2012 list - The Great Gatsby and The Power of One  are at the top of the list for this year.  Also in the queue are Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott and Wild by Cheryl Strayed.  And with that, good night – my Kindle beckons!

As has become our tradition, we rang in the new year last night with our closest friends here at home, stuffing our faces with all manners of junk food and making our predictions for 2013.  We raised our glasses at midnight and then sprawled out in the living room for another couple of hours while Shane, Jack, and Daniel solidified plans for their latest, greatest business venture – $6 churros, coming soon from a cart near you! Stay tuned for more on that (or don’t – I love their ambition, but am skeptical about their powers of execution…).

We brunched this morning with the Rusts and the Chens and soaked a bit in the sunshine we’ve been missing for the last couple of months.  I remember spending New Years day with these same folks five years ago (minus the little ones) in Jack and La Verne’s South Lake Union townhouse.  How time has flown…

I spent the afternoon finishing up our calendar, pulling together snapshots of 2012’s highlights.  I was doing some year-end reflecting yesterday and felt heavy with the knowledge that too much of the past year was spent in my metaphorical “hole”.  But then I see these captured moments of joy spread out before me, and I am reminded that God showed up with his bag o’ blessings in my life time and again this year.  He was there in our lazy summer evenings at Jefferson Park, where we laid on a blanket and drank wine and listened to the Giants beat the Dodgers.  He was there in those precious moments spent with family, in that afternoon that Elise and I spent painting on the sunny porch of our Orcas Island rental.  He was at the California weddings of two of my oldest friends, and he was at Quest Church when Jon and Adrienne said “I do” – He even followed us to their reception, where we all danced until we were sweaty and exhausted, cheeks sore from so much laughter.  He was on Whidbey Island during on the weekend that Shane and I celebrated our sixth anniversary, allowing us to fully absorb just how much we adore each other as we wrapped ourselves in blankets and watched the sun set from our sandy patio.

While I was initially eager to shut the door on 2012 and to focus on looking forward rather than back, instead I’ll pause for a moment to give thanks.  To remember the good stuff.  And to find comfort in the fact that even through the hard times, whether I sensed His presence or not, God still showed up.

Grand ambitions gone awry – it’s kind of a weekend theme at the Schnell household.  I figured I would take advantage our open schedule to get some housework done, do some cooking to counteract all the eating out we’ve been doing, finally get out in the yard to rake up those leaves that fell from the trees so many weeks ago. But then we decided to head downtown and see a movie on Saturday.  And then we decided to make a whole date out of it, with shopping and coffee, followed by dinner with Jack and La Verne at a Korean joint we’ve been wanting to try.  Those leaves could wait.

We left church today with an entire plan-free afternoon stretched out before us.  What to do?  Hot tea in the snowman mug I unearthed last week in my search for my cookie cutters, macarons fresh from Paris (thanks, Jack and La V!), and a whole lot of snuggling under a blanket with my Kindle and Mr. Schnell.  Oh, and a nap (the really, really good kind where you wake up and haven’t the foggiest idea how long you’ve been out). We capped off the day with dinner at Jason and Nance’s, and I had officially made it through the weekend without doing a bit of cleaning, cooking, or raking.  I’m feeling just the slightest twinge of laziness-induced guilt.  Better pop in an episode of Dawson’s Creek to see if that can take my mind off of it…

Ahhhh, what a very merry Christmas in Portland.  We ate, we lounged, we doted on those two irrestibly sweet little girls.  ‘Tis indeed the season for joy and love and all kinds of thankfulness.

We arrived at Mitch and Kathryn’s on Sunday afternoon, and as usual, Morgan and Elise were quick to warm up to Uncle Shane.  Also as usual, he was wrapped around their little fingers in a matter of seconds – I think he read Good Dog, Carl a total of 14 times in three days.

I had to work a little harder to earn their affection, but it wasn’t anything frosting and cookies couldn’t handle.

We ordered Thai take-out for dinner, played a round of Quiddler, and then were ready to put a bow on Christmas Eve Eve – it had been quite a day.

We were thrilled to see sunshine on Monday morning and headed over to the park for a couple hours of sliding, swinging, and playing in the sand.

Uncle Shane clearly takes the cake as best swing-pusher ever.

The grown-up girls headed out during naptime for a coffee break and a little shopping.  Kathryn, my mom and I strolled down Williams Avenue, ogling the perfect wares at Ink and Peat and then sipping pretty lattes at Ristretto Roasters.

This double-decker dress shop/bus was so…Portland.

My mom whipped up a tasty pot of red lentil and veggie soup for dinner, with some extra special help on the chapati flatbread from two dear little elves.

After dinner, Kathryn, Shane and I loaded the girls in the car and braved the crowds at Peacock Lane to take in all the brightly lit houses and yards.  Morgan and Elise both got a kick out of the whole ordeal – I mean, does it get any better than giant glowing lollipops?

The girls were tuckered out by the time we got home – there wasn’t much resistance to bedtime that night, as we assured them that Santa would be on his way once they were fast asleep.

Elise burst into our room bright and early yesterday morning to shout “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” and urge us to come check out the loot Santa had delivered.  We spent the next hour watching the girls tear into their gifts – Morgan was quick to cuddle and feed her new baby doll and Elise was raring to go on her new roller skates.

The rest of the day was spent lounging around the warm and cozy house as rain fell on a cold, wet Portland.  We played games, we painted with Elise’s new watercolor set, we snuggled up on the couch to watch basketball and doze.

Oh, and for the record, Shane is the favorite for a reason – the lengths that guy will go to for an extra cuddle…  No shame!

I’ve prayed a lot lately for a spirit of gratitude – I’ve mentioned before how hard it can be for me to keep the “don’t-haves” from overshadowing our multitude of blessings.  But my blessings were made so abundantly clear yesterday – a house filled with the giggles of little girls that I love so much it makes my heart ache, the company of a family that makes me feel whole, the tenderness of an incredibly kind and loving husband.  And looking down on all of us, a Savior that came to earth so many years ago to dine with tax collectors and prostitutes, to turn the world’s notion of justice on its head, and to give the ultimate sacrifice.  Because he loves me.

My parents left early this morning and we headed out right behind them.  One final stop at Barista for what may be the best latte I’ve had all year, and then we were homeward bound.

I spent this afternoon in the office and spent this evening unpacking – back to business as usual, I suppose.  I’m hoping my post-holiday letdown can be warded off with chocolate and a living room screening of Love Actually.  I’ll let you know how that goes…

Tomorrow we head to Portland to celebrate Christmas with the Jarrells.  But today?  Today was the Schnell family pre-Christmas Christmas bonanza.  And it was glorious.  Shane and I stayed in bed until 10 am, at which point he rolled out to pick up scones from the neighborhood bakery.  I poured us a couple of glasses of festive-looking green juice, we dug into our breakfast, and then it was time for presents!

There were several gifts under the tree this year to Boo from Boo – I scored a sweet new lens for my camera and Shane was happily surprised with a bottle of fancy absinthe.

It felt good, our little family of two sitting by the Christmas tree and listening to Nat King Cole sing about roasting chestnuts.  So warm and cozy and…right.

I spent the better part of the afternoon in the kitchen, rolling our sugar cookies and making my favorite cranberry cornmeal biscotti.  Can’t wait to decorate these babies tomorrow with Elise!

We headed downtown later in the day to do some shopping and catch a movie.  Shane bought me a couple of pairs of earrings from my favorite boutique and then we walked over to the theater for Silver Linings Playbook, which turned out to be my kind of movie – romantic and sad and happy and just a little bit cheesy.

After the movie, we strolled through downtown, taking in all the Christmas lights one more time before heading to dinner in Capitol Hill.

We capped off the night at home, snuggling on the couch and watching Elf while Shane sipped his spiked eggnog and I ate the cookie cast-offs (no sense in letting that armless gingerbread man and four-pointed star go to waste!).   It was nice to soak in the peace and comfort of home today – I feel rested and thankful and so, so ready to engage in some serious playtime with two very special little girls.  Portland, here we come!

Shane and I had dinner with one of our pastors on Monday night, and as we laid all of our hopes/longings/sorrows out on a table filled with piping hot bowls of pho, she reminded us that we shouldn’t let our dreams for the future get in the way of reveling in the present.  Damn, she’s good.  I get so wrapped in wishing and wanting that I forget how good things can be right now.  We’re young and active and healthy.  We live in an amazing city with all kinds of amazing people.  We have good jobs and a home we love.  And we have boatloads of freedom.  We can jet off for a weekend getaway when the mood strikes us, we can spend an entire Saturday lounging in our pajamas after a long and tiring week, and we can turn tickets to a 7 pm comedy show into an epic night out on the town.  Last night was such a night – we had tickets to see Louis CK at the Paramount and decided to meet up after work for a pre-show bite at Kushibar.  We’ve been wanting to check this place out for awhile, and the big bowls of tonkotsu ramen did not disappoint.  We’ll come back next time with bigger appetites – I wish I’d had room for the fried octopus balls (as in fried balls of octopus meat – don’t be gross)!

We had some time to kill post-dinner, so we popped into Shorty’s on a whim to play some pinball.  This place is pretty divey, but once you get past the sticky floors and the musty odor of whiskey-soaked dudes, it’s a fun joint.  Oh, and I crushed Shane at pinball, for the record.

We made our way from Belltown to the Paramount and could hardly contain our excitement as we settled into our seats.  Shane has been a big fan of Louis CK for years, and I’ve recently come to see past the occasional (err…frequent) crudeness and get a good laugh out of his stand-up.  I had pretty high expectations heading into this – it was our first comedy show and I’d heard from a couple of people that this tour was hilarious.  And wowsers – he hit my high expectations out of the ballpark.  My cheeks hurt from laughing by the time he left the stage.  And then he came out for an encore and I howled some more.  Thanks, Louis – we needed that.

I assumed we’d jump on lightrail and head home after the show was over, but Shane had another whim up his sleeve as he pulled out his phone to look up downtown dessert places.  We walked down 4th Avenue, taking in the decorations and the lights and the clear, crisp night.

We landed at Purple wine bar and after four seconds of perusing the menu, I settled on the creme brulee.  Shane ordered a stinky blue cheese plate and a glass of port, and we sat there for awhile, still chuckling over our favorite Louis jokes and remarking what a fun, random night it had been (the Shorty’s crowd and the Purple crowd are typically not one and the same).

Much love to my man and my city – we should all get together more often.

I remember having a “preach it, sister” moment when Nance shared in c-group a few weeks ago about how hard it can be to hold sorrow and joy in tension, not letting one disallow the other.  This has been particularly difficult for me this holiday season - our unrealized baby hopes have squashed my spirit, leaving me frustrated and broken at a time of year usually marked with thankfulness and cheer.  I’ve had a hard time finding the good in the midst so much sadness.  But I resolved last week to turn it around – to hit pause on my wallowing and enjoy a weekend full of Christmas parties and gift-wrapping and soaking in God’s abundant blessings.  I had my Christmas playlist all queued up, my little black dress picked out for the office holiday party, our cupboards stocked with the ingredients for pumpkin bread and my favorite biscotti.

And then Friday morning happened.  I was out shopping at lunchtime when a friend’s Facebook update popped up on my phone – I saw the words “tragedy” and “children” and pulled up the NY Times to check the latest headlines.  Tragedy didn’t even begin to describe it.  I stood there for a minute on the sidewalk, stunned and suddenly feeling very alone among the crowds that were rushing in and out of stores, chatting and smiling and going about life as usual.  I headed back to my office and nearly came unglued as I read the latest breaking details.  27 people dead.  20 of them precious little children.  Moms, dads, brothers, sisters, teachers facing the loss of so much innocent life.  God, where were you?  It’s hard to find His light in the midst of such suffocating darkness.  It’s easy to feel forsaken and lost.  But I can’t, I won’t forget His promise.  I won’t forget the baby that came so long ago to redeem the world, to defeat death and pay for our sins with His suffering and sacrifice.

It still seems awfully dark out there, but as I stumble and search and cry out to Him, a light flickers as He reveals His ultimate goodness.  I see Him in the stories of the courageous and selfless teachers that loved and protected their students.  I see Him in the candles that were lit across the nation as people stood in solidarity with Newtown.  I see Him so vividly in our community of friends, our “Seattle family”.  He was there when we gathered on Saturday night for our sixth annual fondue party, where we ate and laughed and danced and experienced the joy of belonging.  God is indeed good.  Yes, there will be reasons to weep and mourn and question His ultimate plan, but there will also be reasons to dance.  And I think I’m finally seeing those reasons through the blur of my tears.

I started baby-sitting Shane’s cousin Elizabeth when she was just two or three years old.  A couple of years later, her parents introduced me to their super-hot nephew, who was visiting from Minnesota for a summer job and looking for friends (“friends“) in the area.  Seven years later, I married that guy.  And six years after that, sweet little Biz is visiting Seattle to tour UW in hopes that she’ll start there as a Freshman next Fall.  Where do the years go?  It was tough not to dwell on the fact that I’m gettin’ so dang old, but I put my vanity aside for the weekend and set out to woo Shane’s cousin and her best friend with our city’s finest charms.  We dined on fresh pasta at Tavolata and desserted with waffle cones from Molly Moon’s. Shane showed them around the U-District and gave them their first lesson in chopsticks at Thai Tom. We did the whole market shebang – gum wall and brass pig and mini-donuts and all.  We walked along the waterfront to the sculpture park and then headed over to Capitol Hill to warm up with coffee at Bauhaus.  It was fun to do the grand tour and hit a couple of our old favorites.  We’re hoping that a year from now, Biz will be coming over on Sunday afternoons to do her laundry and fill us in on what’s actually cool in Seattle.  Fingers crossed!

After dropping the girls off at the airport on Sunday morning, we set out for our annual trip to North Bend for our Christmas tree.  It was cold and drizzly and I almost bailed on our tradition, thinking it would be so much easier to just hit up the tree lot in front of Home Depot, but I’m glad my sentimental spirit (with Shane’s prodding) won out.  Snow-dusted Mount Si was beautiful, and we found our perfect tree in record time.  Plus, Shane makes a cute lumberjack.

This is one of those times when I could really use a post-weekend weekend to catch my breath, but I’ll have to settle for a quiet Monday evening reading by the light of the Christmas tree.  Not too shabby…