little black journal

The holiday season always seems to throw me into a bit of an emotional whirlwind – lots of high highs and low lows.  I get all gushy and reflective; memories and feelings that might lay dormant for months at a time suddenly surface, making me want to laugh and cry and be alone and be with every single person I love all at the same time.  It’s a tizzy.  But it’s good.  The past couple of weeks, what’s stood out to me more than the joy of Christmas traditions or the melancholy of missing loved ones and loved places is the overwhelming sense that I am blessed.  This realization has hit me again and again and again – I am blessed.  In the middle of the night when I was woken by the sound of monsoon-like rains, I prayed for the thousands of homeless people in my city and thought about how fortunate I am to be able to snuggle deeper under the covers and shun the cold from my warm, cozy bed.  As we sang Christmas carols with our community group, while our dear friends Brian and Nicole listened in from Africa via Skype, I thought, “Thank you, Jesus, for this surrogate family”.  As I eagerly await the arrival of my soon-to-be-born niece, I imagine what it will feel like to hold her in my arms for the first time on Christmas Eve and I want to fall to my knees and praise God for babies and family and brand-new life.  As I sip my cup of hot green tea and read by the light of our gift-laden Christmas tree, I think, “God, you didn’t have to give me all this”.  But He did it anyway.

“From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another.”  – John 1:16

Indeed, we are sitting at the airport as I type, waiting to board our plane to cold, snowy, cold (did I already say that?) Minnesota for a week with Shane’s family. This trip has become an annual tradition for us, and I’ve come to look forward it more and more each year. I love being in a house full of family, watching Shane play Legos with his nieces and nephew while the smell of roasted turkey wafts in from the kitchen. I love taking a ride down memory lane with Shane, as he takes me past all the places he used to get into trouble as a kid (yes, my gentle, law-abiding husband used to be the king of car crashes, stolen road signs, and toilet papered front yards). I love getting up pre-dawn with with my mother-in-law and sister-in-law to hit the Door-Buster sales the day after Thanksgiving. And I especially love waking up to the sight of a freshly fallen blanket of snow, knowing that if I so please, I don’t have to do anything that day other than curl up on the couch with a cup of tea and a good book. Cheers to time with family, to relaxation, and to my new fuzzy, warm hat. It’s going to be a very, very good week.

Wowsers, what a week.  Some good (got back into my exercise groove with back-to-back evening runs with Shane), some bad (rough day at the office and I think I officially became ‘the girl that cries at work’ this afternoon…), and all of it very, very tiring.  T.G.I.F…  I need a recharge.  Looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow, maybe going for a morning jog down by the lake, taking in a movie with Shane, pulling my sketchbook out after a month-long art-making hiatus, hangin’ with some girlfriends tomorrow night – Saturdays are bliss.

You know what else is bliss?  The beets coming from our garden (how’s that for a segue?!).  They are finally ripe for the pickin’ and I am in root vegetable heaven.  Tonight I sliced a couple up, sauteed them in a little olive oil, then topped them with goat cheese crumbles and toasted walnuts.  Yep, it was every bit as delicious as it sounds.  Paired with a glass of Riesling and the Giants vs. Dodgers game on TV, and I was ready to leave this week behind me and embrace the chance to take a breather and relax.  T.G.I.F. (did I already say that?).

Eeek – it’s been awhile!  Life has been a whirlwind the last 10 days, with a faux wedding to throw (more on that later), lots of goings-on with friends and neighbors, and, finally, the opening of my art show on July 1st.  My weeks of planning and working and art-ing all came to fruition on Thursday night, as I gathered with some of our closest friends to share the collection I’d put so much of my time and heart into. And it was perfect.  I’d held back on making a big deal out of the event, based on my own fears and insecurities, but when Shane and I arrived at the cafe on Wednesday evening to hang my work, and the barista asked, “Oh, are you the artist?”, I actually got to respond with an emphatic, “Yes!”, and was suddenly eager to share my work with anyone willing to take a look.  I’m embracing and living up to the title of ‘Artist’, no longer calling myself a wanna-be, or a poser, or just ‘pretending’ like the work I do qualifies as art.  This has become a part of who I am, what I do, and how I relate to people.  Being in a room surrounded by 15 pieces of my art was an amazing feeling.  But what made the night infinitely more special was being able to share it all with our Seattle community – the cafe was filled with people that have encouraged me, cheered me on, and reminded me that creativity is most beautiful when it is freely shared.

Huuuuuuge thanks to everyone who came out – it was an evening I will never ever forget…

Oh, Lordy…  Things continue to be busy, with work and art-making and wanting to spend time with my husband and friends, but tonight, I am taking time to chill.  I had a deadline at work today that called for some late nights at the office, but the drawings are done, my inbox is cleared, and now, after an evening nap and a glass of wine, order has been restored to my life.  It was nice to share a meal with Shane, to throw in an old episode of Sex and the City, and to nibble on the delicate little macaroons that I picked up at the French bakery in the Market.  Yes, as I sit here and type, with Joe Purdy piping through the speakers, my most recent artwork scattered about on the walls and shelves, and a cozy bed beckoning me from the next room, I have to say, life is good.  Sometimes running on empty is ok, as long as I have nights like these to refuel.

I guess the Schnells are one year closer to becoming an old married couple, as May 20th marked our fourth anniversary.  Lucky for me, Shane was feeling exceptionally romantic and booked us an overnight getaway in a secret location – my only instructions were to meet him at the ferry terminal at noon on Thursday.  His plans were revealed as we boarded the Bainbridge Island boat – he had reserved us a night at a little cottage tucked away on the island.  It felt nice to look back at the Seattle skyline with my husband, to know that we were cruising away from work, from the house, and from the daily grind, so that we could spend the next 24 hours focusing on each other.  We were due for some ‘us’ time.

Any good getaway includes plenty of indulgent food, so after fish ‘n chips and beer at the Harbour Public House, we zipped right over to Mora for ice cream.  They have 48 flavors there.  My lifelong dream is to try them ALL.  Post-ice cream, we headed over to Fort Ward Park for a little afternoon nature walk.  The sun was shining, the wind was whispering the trees, the woods were rich with just about every imaginable shade of green, and so the stage was set for a perfectly sappy hand-in-hand anniversary stroll.  Lovely.  A snake temporarily startled me out of my bliss, but he seemed much more interested in the slug he was trying to devour than he was in us, so we continued on our way.

After our walk, we were ready to check into our cottage, crack open a bottle of wine, and spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing.  Our accommodations were perfect – cozy, quiet, and nestled in among the trees…  Ten minutes there, and I was ready to move in.

We had a fabulous dinner at Agate Pass, and after a spontaneous 20-minute detour to check out the casino we passed on the way back to our place (I won $15 at my first slot machine and decided to quit while I was ahead), we were ready to call it a night.  Turning in at 10 pm is another sure sign that we’re on our way to becoming an old married couple.

Sleeping in is also a crucial part of a good getaway, and so we did just that on Friday morning, rolling out of bed in time to devour the delicious homemade breakfast that was delivered to our door.  Fresh-baked scones and French-press coffee, enjoyed from a little table next to a window that looks out into the forest?  Yes, please!  I really was enamored with the woods – ferns and moss and green, green trees as far as the eye can see.  I can feel myself becoming more and more of a Northwestern-er every day.

And then it was time to bid the island farewell and cruise back toward Seattle.  And yes, that means heading back to work, and the house, and the daily grind, but it also means heading home with the man I love.  Candles and wine and afternoon walks in the woods are all good things, but I suppose there’s also romance to be found in an evening spent on the couch together watching a baseball game, or a quick kiss good-bye on our way out the door in the morning.  So until May 20th rolls around again, I will be savoring the goodness of the day-in, day-out, which is really what’s gotten us through the last four years, and will carry us through the next forty.

On one of our last days in Sayulita, we received the sad news that Shane’s grandmother in Pennsylvania had passed away on Tuesday morning.  We quickly made travel arrangements to hop on a plane out to the east coast as soon as we returned to Seattle on Thursday evening.  We arrived in Baltimore on Friday morning, tired but thankful to be able to share this time of mourning with family.  The weekend was a whirlwind of services and family get-togethers, but through all the busy-ness, everyone found time to honor and remember Grace in their own special way.  She had been ill for some time, and although the family seemed accepting that this was her time to go, the loss was still very strongly felt – Shane’s mom was saying good-bye to her one-and-only mother; Shane and his sister were parting with a grandmother that had loved and nurtured them for years.  The night before the funeral, I spent some time at the hotel with Shane, his sister, and his parents, listening to them compose the eulogy that would be delivered the following day.  I sat on that couch for hours as they shared dozens of stories about the kind of wife, mother, and grandmother Grace had been.  Through tears and through laughter, I caught a glimpse of the kind of life this amazing woman had lived.  I wish I had known her when she was well.  She has left behind a legacy of very special children and grandchildren.

On Sunday, before heading out of town, we spent some time in the Pennsylvania countryside, taking in the beauty of a misty morning out among the fields.  Shane’s uncle had given us directions to an old covered bridge, and we eventually wound our way out to this amazing 160 year-old wooden structure, nestled into this quiet little patch of woods where bluebells bloomed along the banks of the river.  It felt like a scene out of Anne of Green Gables, as I walked among the wildflowers and gazed up at the bright green branches of newly leafed trees.  Lovely.

Since my dad’s family lives in the Baltimore area, we decided to head there on Sunday evening, for a quick visit before our Monday evening flight back to Seattle.  En route to Baltimore, we stopped in Washington, D.C. for a short bout of sightseeing, but I’ll save our 2-hour tour-de-monuments for another post – for now, I’ll just say that armed with his iPhone, Shane makes one heck of a tour guide.

Even on short notice, my aunt was able to rally the Jarrell troops and Shane and I were able to see all of my aunts and uncles in our short time there, as well as spend a couple of hours visiting with my Grandaddy.  I would have loved to have more time with them all, but I’m thankful for the couple of meals that we did have the chance to share together.  This was the first time I had visited Baltimore since my grandmother, Nannie, passed away a couple of years ago, and her absence was very evident.  Family gatherings are not, nor will they ever be, the same without her.  I was reminded again and again this weekend that family should never be taken for granted – every moment should be cherished, every memory tucked away in a special place.

Fourteen years ago, I decided in my Freshman ‘Careers and Goals’ class that I wanted to be an architect.  I can’t remember my exact reasoning in choosing this career path (very well might have been as superficial as, ‘oh, that sounds cool…’), but I stuck by my decision and took high school drafting and art classes, in hopes of increasing my chances of getting into a good college architecture program.  Ten years ago, I began my five-year education at California Polytechnic State University (which was recently voted number three among architecture programs in the nation – woot!), embarking on some of the most challenging, most inspiration-filled, most creatively formative years of my life.  Four-and-a-half years ago, I was offered my first real architecture job in Seattle and was put to work building models and drawing details for a large research building in South Lake Union.  Two years ago, I registered for my first architectural licensing exam, and walked into the testing center with my palms sweating and my heart beating about a million times per minute.  Last month I got notice that I had passed my ninth and final exam, and Shane and I jumped up in down in the kitchen as I waved my pass letter around with utter relief.  On Thursday I received my architectural license in the mail, authorizing me to finally, after all these years of learning and growing and working and waiting, officially call myself an ‘Architect’.  Wow, what a journey, filled with so many ups and downs.  There were bumps in the road, when I felt like my brain was going to be rattled right out of my head, and then there were wide open stretches of freeway, when I felt like the world was my oyster.  But I got through it all and am grateful for how the process has grown and refined me.

So…now what?  To be honest, despite the achievement of this milestone, I still have much to learn/do/see/accomplish.  This piece of paper isn’t going to immediately change my life, make my job all that different, or endow me with some kind of designer super-powers – right now, it’s just a piece of paper.  But it’s also validation that I have worked my butt off and officially achieved a goal that I set way back in 1995, when I was sitting in a little classroom in Central California and trying to answer the question ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’.  And that’s pretty cool.

When Shane and I were dating, Valentine’s Day was always a big deal – he would make reservations at some fancy restaurant and drive down to visit me at college, usually arriving at my door with a bouquet of flowers or special gift in hand.  I would look forward to our evening together, thankful that when someone asked me, “Are you doing anything for Valentine’s Day?”, I actually had something good to say.  After we got married, our zeal for Valentine’s Day waned a little bit, but we still celebrated the day, usually with a special home-cooked meal and an exchange of cards.  We started talking last week about what we wanted to do for this Valentine’s Day, knowing that I would probably be spending most of the day at the office, as I have a big deadline at work tomorrow.  I flipped through one of our cookbooks, gazed into our well-stocked fridge with a total lack of motivation, and finally we looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders with a simultaneous, “eh.”  Valentine’s Day can be a great excuse to go out for a nice dinner or indulge in a fancy box of chocolates, but I’ve decided that if you’re not feeling moved to do anything special, just let it go.  And so, I am not ashamed to admit that I had cereal for dinner tonight, and after a long day of work, nothing felt better than hanging out on the couch with my husband, playing a round of Tetris, catching up on Project Runway, eating a bowl of my favorite ice cream.  As Shane rubbed my feet and asked me about my day, I was reminded that I don’t need a dozen roses or a stuffed Cornish game hen to know that I am loved.  I am married to a man that stayed up until 2:30 last night fixing a glitch on my laptop’s photo software, a man that let me watch the latest Project Runway tonight when I know he’d rather have flipped it to the newest episode of 24, a man that has already offered to get up early on his day off to drive me into work tomorrow morning, so that I can sleep in just 10 minutes later and avoid the rainy walk to the lightrail stop.  Now if that’s not love, what is?

Although this month has been full of good times, I admit that I’m ready for January to come to a close, as Shane and I wrap up what has become our annual exercise of strict frugality.  We did indeed manage to stick with our commitment of no non-essential spending this month, and maintained a grocery budget of three dollars per day per person, but it was definitely more challenging that I anticipated.  I could write a whole blog post about how difficult it was to give up espresso, or lunch at my favorite Thai place, but since there are so many people around the world making much larger sacrifices out of necessity rather than choice, I will refrain from whining about caffeine deprivation or cabin fever.  Instead, I can see the great deal of good that came out of this exercise: we spent more time in the kitchen together; we wasted less; we enjoyed the outdoors more; we found ‘solidarity’ with other frugal friends by sharing fabulous potluck meals together on Sunday evenings; and we realized that we can and should spend less throughout the year to come, so that we are able to save more and give more.  All good things.

We ended the month in truly frugal fashion, spending the afternoon taking a walk through the wooded park just a couple of miles from our house, and as I started to inwardly grumble a little about the soggy ground, the gray skies, and my hankering for a nice steaming latte, I was struck by the sight of beautiful little leaf buds starting to sprout on the branches of the trees along the path.  It was a nice reminder that life is a series of seasons, and that in Shane’s and my life, there is a season to sacrifice and a season to splurge.  And as long as we living intentionally and giving generously, there will be blessings to count no matter season we’re in.