I’ve spent the past week giving some thought to what 2011 meant to me. It was a year of change for our family and I thought I would share with you some insights into the highlights. Feel free to read it in the erratic pseudo poetry style I wrote it in:
In 2011….
As the year emerged, I began to breath again after the sucker punch to the gut of my husband loosing his job with a non-profit that he poured his heart and soul into for over 18 years, and the life threatening depression that followed for him.
I learned that a new normal is just that; new, different, frightening…and yet, normal. Breakfast is still in the morning. Laundry still needs washed. A good night’s sleep or a Hershey bar can still restore the soul.
I started playing angry birds. Silly birds, why are you so mad at the pigs?
I celebrated the last birthday before official middle age.
And learned that I like myself now more than I did at 18 or 21 or 30 or any of the other milestone birthdays.
I had an unusual amount of friends that had babies. Unusual due to the said birthday mentioned above.
I came to terms with the fact that my business isn’t going to be what I thought it would be.
And opened myself up to the creative flow that has been stifled by trying to make my product too commercial.
After intermittent months of being an ostrich with my head in the sand, feeling like a failure, and not addressing issues that needing tending to.
I have accepted, and…to be honest…embraced, that my art may only ever be for my own edification. And that is fine. That revelation brings me back to a place where I can create instead of make. And with all creation, comes the divine spark that is the soul.
I learned that with a little of the right hair gel and diffuser, my natural hair is quite curly. No really. It’s as big as any 80’s spiral wrapped piggy back perm I ever rocked. Pics to come.
I worked a regular 40 hour a week/outside the home/paying job for an entire year for the first time in my life.
And, by the way, I now have a “2nd” job. Reference said 40 hr/week job above. More on that later.
I posted the single best Facebook post ever: If birthday cake had a fan club, I would be the slightly stalker-ish ex-girlfriend with a restraining order sending in perfume scented stationary with things like “If you’ll just give me another chance, I’m sure we can work it out. I can make you love me. I can be better, I promise.”
And? On an randomly unrelated note…I had a practice run at Weight Watchers. Practice is good, right?
I became the mom of a teenager. And 2 black belts. Not necessarily in that order.
In my darkest hour, I discovered a marriage that was stripped bare, removed off all else, it was just you & just me. And discovered that now is better. And then doesn’t matter. Then brought us now, and now is all there is.
I found new friends to laugh with, both face to face & online.
And lost one of my dearest friends.
And miss her at the most random times. Which then make me laugh, and she would laugh and cry with me if she could.
I figured out that my obsession with Harry Connick, Jr. would be better if he would stop appearing on talk shows. Really, he’s a bit of a dork.
I hiked mountains with my family. And felt at peace, whole, complete. At home in god’s country. Wherever this life takes me, the mountains will always be more home to me than anywhere else.
I finished 2 Harry Potter books. And am feeling the tug and both wanting and not wanting to finish the series. The inner geek in me wants to know what happens next. But I have the bittersweet knowledge that this might be our last book series to read with a (not so) little one on my lap.
I set out my last batch of cookies for Santa.
I started working on a book of lace knitting patterns. Some days I feel like I’m in over my head with this, math not being my strongest skill, but it’s a fun challenge that I am determined to conquer.

Screen shot of my online store: Boutique Benay

The fam on top of Vail Mountain (at the Wedding Chapel, if you’ve been there)

Lace ruffle for the bottom of the wedding dress that will be in the lace knitting book

Rest peacefully Gwynne. You are loved.
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