little black journal

Yep, I’m a knittin’ fiend these days!  I whipped these out in just over a week, which felt like some kind of record after spending nearly a year on my last project.  And I love them – soft, simple, super-cute.  Bring it, winter – I’m ready for you now.

Pattern is Camp Out Fingerless Mitts, found on Ravelry.  Yarn is Mal Abrigo merino wool, color Mariposa.

There are a list of things I’ve developed over the years as sure-fire “pick-me-ups” – a pampering massage, a bout of retail therapy at the mall, a long chat with a girlfriend…  And then there are perfect weekends like this past one, when all of these little pleasures were wrapped up into a couple of epic days of relaxation and fun:

Nancy, La Verne, and I had such a good time on our trip to Woodinville last year that we declared the getaway an annual tradition and named it L-Dub (short for Ladies Weekend).  After much anticipation, L-Dub 2 kicked off on Saturday at Truce Spa in Bellevue.  Massages, facials, manicures, oh my – we walked in there with our crazy internet deal vouchers and walked out three hours later with perfect nails and glowing skin.  My joy overflowed when Nancy suggested that we do some shopping before heading up to Kirkland to check into our hotel.  Nance is not a shopper – I don’t know if I’ve set foot inside a store with her, ever, but she must have taken a drink of La Verne’s and my Kool-Aid, because she was wanting to hit the mall hard.  We wandered from store to store, offering each other advice on the perfect wallet or the best deal off the sale rack.  I didn’t buy much, but there’s something about shopping with girlfriends that seriously tugs at my female bonding heartstrings.  As we sat on that mall bench together and ate our frozen yogurt, shopping bags tucked between us, I felt so content, so close with those two.

We checked into our lake-view room at the Woodward around 7:00 and settled in for a wild night of room service and chick flicks.  The food was so-so, the movie was kind of terrible (Meryl Streep and Tommy Lee Jones in a romantic comedy?  What were we thinking?), but the late-night conversation was the perfect way to round out a perfect day.  It’s nice to know that I’m not too old to enjoy a good slumber party.

Breakfast was delivered right to our door on Sunday morning (room service – so brilliant!) and we ate our pancakes in bed.  Coffee, toenail painting, a bit more lounging, and then that dreaded check-out time rolled around and it was time for us to hit the road.  I was ready to get home to Shane and show off my fancy French manicure, but still, it was hard to see this little escapade come to a close.  We had taken “pick-me-up” to a whole new level.

It took a good 24 hours, but I think I’m finally fully thawed – Seattle is by no means hot and toasty, but 5 degrees plus a serious wind chill?  Brrrrrrr….  Freezing temps aside, our last couple of days in Minnesota were full of more warm moments with the family, more relaxing, and plenty more eating.

Once I’d recovered from Thursday’s midnight mall madness (Shane’s mom and I are self-declared suckers for a good deal), Shane and I headed out for a drive on Friday afternoon to enjoy the snow-dusted countryside.  We have a few special spots that we visit each time we’re back – a quiet little stretch of shore at Lake Bergen, the Minnewaska lookout, the Schnell plot at Hudson Cemetery.  And there’s always a stroll down Shane’s memory lane.  We cruise past the field where the neighbor kid took him out for a joy ride in his dad’s car (and then rolled and totaled the car – bussssted!).  I know the 3-mile stretch of road that Shane once rode on his bike without once touching his handlebars.  I know where he used to catch turtles in the summers, the ditch where he would practice snowboarding in the winter.  I like reliving these memories with him, revisiting these places time and again – kind of makes me feel like I’m coming “home” as well.

We rolled out of bed late on Saturday, caught a matinee at the local theater, and then convened with the whole family back at the house for an early Christmas celebration.  There was more turkey, more ham, and a pile of gifts to be opened.

Avery is 8 years old and loves Legos and tractors more than anything in the world.  But check out the grin on this guy’s face when he opened a box full of socks!  What a sport.

For the record, he did also receive toys in abundance – much of the evening was spent assembling this Lego helicopter.

We capped off the evening with a glass of scotch (for the boys), a slice of pumpkin pie, and a rousing round of Catch Phrase, during which Shane’s dad brought me to tears (of laughter) with his impression of Tiny Tim.

We ate our traditional breakfast in Nelson on Sunday morning, and then it was time to hit the road toward Minneapolis to catch our flight.  Much thanks to Shane’s mom and dad for always making us feel so welcome – I know that each of our visits are preceded by a cleaning, cooking, and shopping frenzy.  Shane’s mom had stocked the cupboards with four kinds of homemade cookies and my favorite caramels and chocolate peanut butter balls.  How’s that for speaking my love language? Thanks again, Schnell clan.  We already miss you.

Happy Thanksgiving from the Schnells! We landed in Minnesota yesterday afternoon and quickly settled into the warmth and comfort of Shane’s parents’ house. The livin’ was eeeeeasy today – a turkey and ham dinner at a nearby resort (we’re saving the home-cooked shebang for Saturday), visiting for awhile with Shane’s aunt and uncle, and an afternoon full of football, naps, knitting, and more eating. It was a day packed with reasons for gratitude – for family near and far, for fresh snow (God heard me on that one!), for an abundance of good food and quality rest. Tonight I’m setting aside our own “please, please, please” prayers and lifting up those who are lonely or hungry or cold on this chilly November evening – Shane and I are already brimming with blessings beyond measure.

This past Spring was the first time that I made a Lenten resolution. I grew up thinking Lent was only for Catholics or for people seeking motivation to lose a few pounds by giving up soda or chocolate or fast food. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I really began to absorb the significance of the season, the fact that it’s a chance for all followers of Christ to reflect more deeply on His sacrifice. And so in February I started searching for some sort of appropriate 40-day fast. What I settled upon, after wading through several not-quite-meaningful-enough ideas, was actually additive rather than subtractive: I committed to 40 days of prayer journaling, spending 10 or 15 minutes a day putting pen to paper in a series of “letters” to God.  My prayer life often takes a nose dive when I get busy or tired or swept up in the daily grind – I caught myself forgetting to turn to God when things were going too well (no thanks, God, I got this!), and then resisting Him when things felt utterly crappy (c’mon, God, do you even hear me?). Days (weeks, even?) would go by without a peep from me to Him.  This disciplined Lenton practice of giving Him my full attention, putting written words to my heart’s praises/longings/fears/questions proved to be the kick in the pants I needed to get us back on track.  One week into my resolution, I was already seeing His work more clearly in my life and in the lives of my friends and family.  I was turning to Him first, rather than last, when I needed comfort or encouragement.  And then Easter rolled around and Lent was over… But surely, surely, I would keep up this practice that had brought such richness to my life – I was hitting some serious high spots on that spiritual roller-coaster I’ve ridden for the last 20 years.  This had the makings of a permanent resolution.

At least, that’s what I told myself as I watched my neglected Moleskine collect dust on my bedside table – I would pick it up again tomorrow. Tomorrow, I would make the effort.  After five months of tomorrow’s, I recently started cracking open that little black journal and rediscovering the goodness of writing to God.  Somehow my prayers feel more real when I see them on paper, as opposed to that 30-second jumble of requests that drifts through my head as I’m falling asleep each night.  I think God values the intentionality of written words.  And I like having a record of what’s been on my heart.  The names of our friends and family are in there, as we’ve walked alongside them through ups and downs.  There are a handful of gushy praises, and there are countless pages of “please, please, please”.  There are a few tear-smudged entries.  There are bits of songs or Bible verses that have struck me at my core.  I look back and I see that some of these prayers have so clearly been answered with a resounding “yes”.  Others have drawn forth a “no”, or “wait”, or “how about we do it My way instead?”.  And then there are those prayers that seem to have been met with silence.  These are the ones where hurt and doubt and anxiety creep in.  But after each spiral of feeling lost and forlorn, I circle back to the belief that I follow a God that cares enough to read every last word, and that is wise enough to answer according to his perfect timing.  And so I will keep on writing.

This project has been 8 months in the making – I got about 12 inches into it, then stuffed it in a box and lost my knitting mojo (this seems to happen every Spring/Summer).  Then the Giants made the play-offs and we were spending loads of time in front of the TV, and I needed something to keep my hands busy while I fretted over whether or not Zito truly was going to come through in a clutch.  I finished my last row a week ago and am glad to have another neck cozy, as the weather in Seattle has officially turned terrible.  The scarf is a little more drapy than I imagined (I may try it again with bulkier yarn), but it’s super-comfy and I’m loving the color.  Ta and da:

Pattern is Northern Loop, found on Ravelry.  Yarn is Lion Brand Nature’s Choice Organic Cotton.

Shane boarded a plane bound for Minnesota yesterday to attend his grandfather’s funeral, so it’s been a pretty quiet weekend at Chez Schnell. And I’ve been a bit down – missing my husband, grieving for his family’s loss, battling that monthly funk…  But I’m finding comfort in the smallest of pleasures.  Like gingerbread pancakes.  And brownies.  And an afternoon spent knitting and watching Serendipity with Nance.  Coffee and a soul-baring catch-up with La Verne.  A couple of head-clearing runs on the treadmill with Shakira and Sia.  Copious amounts of mint tea and far too many episodes of Dawson’s Creek.  Yep, home alone and I’m livin’ large.

Sometimes a girl, even a girl in her thirties, just needs her mom.  I’ve been longing for that special kind of comfort and encouragement that only my mom can offer, so I was thrilled when she rolled into town on the Thursday afternoon train.  The weekend was full of so much quality mother-daughter time – we made the grand tour de Southcenter and shopped till we dropped, we cooked dinner together, we curled up on the couch to read or watch chick flicks.  She hugged me tight when I poured out my heart, and made chicken soup when Shane and I craved a good rainy-evening meal.  We spent yesterday afternoon strolling through Kubota Gardens, wanting to soak up those last bits of Fall color clinging to the trees (and also walk off our earlier visit to the Theo chocolate factory…).

I said a teary good-bye to her this morning as she boarded her train to Portland – there was no chicken soup for dinner tonight, no one to share my pot of peppermint tea.  At least I can count on Shane to take in a good chick flick with me (he’s sensitive like that).  I miss you already, Mom – thanks for the home-cooked meals, the words of wisdom, and most of all, the hugs.

We’ve been studying the book of John in our small group and read the passage on Tuesday in which John is asked by the Pharisees if he is the Messiah.  He denies being the Messiah, Elijah, or the Prophet – they become frustrated and finally ask, “Who are you?”.  I love his response:  “I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way for the Lord’ ” (John 1:23).  As we unpacked this passage, Nancy asked each of us to define ourselves with a metaphor.  What would you say if someone asked, “Who are you?”.  People shared articulately about mindsets and anxieties and life themes, but I was stumped, struggling to describe the state of my soul in simple terms.  Shane said he feels like he’s playing the role of a DH (designated hitter) these days – his focus feels narrow and limited, like he’s not able to take the field and stand in for a whole game.  It being World Series time and all, I was especially drawn to this analogy and have been reflecting all week on where exactly I fit in this great ball game of life.

I tried to imagine myself excitedly taking the field with my teammates and high-fiving them after a 1-2-3 inning, but when it really came down to putting on that uniform and leather glove, I fell short.  These days, I’m feeling much more bat boy than I am starting lineup.  I’m that scrawny kid in the dugout that wants so badly to go pro someday, but is currently stuck with the less-than-glamorous tasks of filling the Gatorade jug and fetching bats as real players run the bases.  The gig may have been fun for awhile, but now I’m just frustrated and antsy and so, so tired of feeling held back.  I’m longing to trade places with the pitcher – she kicks ass at her job and knows exactly what she wants her career to look like in 5, 10, 15 years.  The second baseman has it pretty good, too – she’s an artist and had been wildly inspired and productive as of late.  That beautiful shortstop works out five days a week and has arms like Michelle Obama.  Oh, and the right fielder – she’s a new mom whose understanding of love has been made new by her little baby.  And here I sit, wondering when or how or if I’ll ever make it onto the roster.

Am I wallowing?  Probably.  I’m finding out how easy it is for me to lose the joy of dreaming and goal-setting and fall instead into a funk of ungratefulness and discontent.  In the words of our pastor, I need to spend less time gazing at the green, green grass on the other side of the fence and more time watering the grass beneath my feet.  Because my yard is full of some pretty amazing stuff.  It’s a husband that offers hugs, encouragement, and goofy faces when I’m down, always knowing the best medicine for the worst blues.  Amazing and supportive friends and family.  Weekends packed with perfect getaways and food-filled parties with the gang.  I know these blessings should be cherished and nurtured.  I know this.  But man, that patch of grass out in right field just won’t stop calling my name…

The rest of our weekend was full of all kinds of goodies, like a Saturday morning spent doing the crossword and eating bagels at Eltana…

And our 5th annual dumpling-making pumpkin-carving party at Chez Hickory.  There’s nothing more Fall-feeling than being up to your elbows in pumpkin guts!

And on Sunday, an epic birthday party for Shane, La Verne, and I, courtesy of Jack Chen’s generous brilliance.  When Jack said he had a really good idea for our joint party (a.k.a. “Schnell-La-Palooza”), my stomach growled and my mouth started watering – I knew we were in for a treat.  And my word, he went BIG.  The four of us have been wolfing down the crazy-good Malaysian fare at Kedai Makan’s farmer’s market food stands all summer, and we were thrilled to find out that Kevin and Alysson themselves would be setting up shop in the Chen’s kitchen for the evening, preparing us a birthday meal to top all birthday meals.  We gathered with 30 of our closest friends and feasted on stewed lamb and fish curry and delicious little shrimp-topped crackers.  The combination of a killer meal, another Giants win, and the company of so many people that we love so much made for an evening of total perfection.  Gracias, Jack.  You rock.

The birthday peeps with the Kedai Makan folks – I think we have officially been elevated to “food groupie” status…

And then, just as I was about to fall into the depths of post-weekend letdown, we watched the Giants clinch their spot in the World Series tonight. Way to turn my Monday frown upside down, boys!  Have I mentioned how much I love October?