Graduation

Today is kind of a sad day. It was the last day of my painting class. While part of me is glad to have my Tuesday nights back, a bigger part of me is sad that class is over.

I was finally beginning to figure out some small amount of confidence in myself as a painter. Not a good painter - not that kind of confidence. But the ability to play. To try something out and NOT be good at it.

Something like this:

This is my last painting project for the class. I started it last week and finished it tonight - with SIGNIFICANT assistance from my teacher, of course. But I'm still proud of it. Not perfect by any means, but a nice strong step in the right direction.

I picked up a sketchbook that I'm going to try to carry around and get myself to continue to play with ideas and colors and images in the way that I've been learning to do. My teacher actually gave me (GAVE ME) one of her paintings tonight - a small landscape that I've been eyeing and trying to trace for weeks now. My goal is that at some point before her next class (which I can't take) starts in January, I could create a version of that landscape to give back to her.

I'm also currently up to my elbows in the beginnings of a knitting project - a 'boy blanket' for one of my friends whose wife is due in late December with their first child. It's not really a baby blanket because the colors aren't 'baby' persay but I'm very excited about it. I won't post pictures here until it's been finished and gifted but just know that it is turning out quite well (if I do say so myself...).

It's been wonderful to get back to that more creative side of myself that more often than not gets squashed down underneathe the practical accountant side. I've reveled in having my hands covered in paint for days after class and poring over the yarn colors at Hobby Lobby to find JUST the right shade. It reminds me that I really need to devote time to that aspect of myself and enjoy those activities that I love that aren't work-related.

Colin and I head to Seattle on Thursday so I imagine that I will come back with all sorts of fantastic ideas that I'll have to work on - rainy landscapes to paint, scarves to knit and tasty food to write drool-worthy blogs about. Look for pictures and trip stories to be posted here when we get back next week!

Growing Up

Our little divine Miss O had herself quite a terrible morning. Colin took her to the vet for her one-year check up and shots and oh my my was she unhappy. Colin said she was crying and squirming and then when the techs entered the room she would crouch behind a chair and growl. GROWL.

She learned that from her big brother Ralph. He's pretty growly.

She's been very loving since I got home this evening and now she is curled up beside me on the couch completely passed out. She tuckered herself out getting so worked up! It's tough business protecting your little 9 pound body from a crowd of giants.

It had to happen though. All of our babies have to be boarded for the big trip and so she had to get her exam. She seems to have survived relatively unscathed, though she may not be easy to put back into her crate to get her to the boarders.

It's been a pretty crazy past two weeks - I spent last week in Antlers, Oklahoma on a client and this week going back and forth to Tulsa for various training sessions. Next week is the Seattle trip so we're busy getting ready for that and preparing the pets to be in the care of others (and cheering on the Rangers!). I'm very excited for this time next week - Colin and I will be eating dinner atop the Space Needle! Get ready for a whole host of pictures of various angles of the same sunset-drenched skyline...

Black Thumb

Colin and I are basking in the October sunshine at my parent's lakehouse this weekend. The weather is gorgeous here and I enjoy the quiet, peaceful moments on the back porch where all you hear is the wind in the trees and the soft music of the chimes hanging from the eaves. We went to town to Bentonville today and meandered slowly through the outdoor shops, spending the most time (and money) in a bookstore, of course. On our way back out to the house, as we passed a nearby apple orchard, I mused out loud to my husband "There's something about the idea of that life, tending an orchard, that appeals to me."

"HA," he snorted. "You do realize you'd have to water those. You always say you don't have a green thumb. Well, plants seem to think that you have the black thumb of death."

He can be so supportive.

He's right though. I'm not very good with plants. I forget to water them or forget to provide food or I leave them in open sunlight when the little plastic tab very clearly says they prefer shadows. For someone who can be very meticulous when I want to be, I'm completely thoughtless when it comes to green, growing things.

But I really do love them, even if I can't keep them alive. I love fresh flowers and the scents and soft textures of draping vines and the bright, round shapes of fresh fruits. I admitted to Colin I wouldn't so much want to tend the orchard as own it and then pick the fruit when it was ripe - I'd hire someone else to do the rest of the work.

"Oh wait, or I would like to own a flower shop." (He snorts again). No - I sigh, not with potted plants or any of that so I wouldn't have to keep them alive. Just big barrels of cut flowers of all kinds overflowing from the shelves.

Shop Exterior, Gunn's Florists
Brighton, England, UK

A place like this one - Gunn's Florist in Brighton which I passed one day as I was hunting for a tasty place for dinner with Mom (for those traveling to the UK on a GFD, I highly recommend Food for Friends). This store called to me from across the street - there were overflowing bushels of flowers crowded all over the floor and in bins up to the ceiling and spilling out of the open door into a large pyramid of flowers on the sidewalk. I found myself lamenting the complete lack of space at the hotel for a vase of off-white cabbage roses with soft pink tips.

Interior, Gunn's Florist
Brighton, England, UK

I would love to spend my entire day surrounded by such loveliness. I'm sure it's more complicated than I want to make it in my head but I envision days spent wrapping heaping handfuls of hydrangea into brown paper cones and gently insisting to male customers that red roses are not the best way to win your way out of the doghouse.

I know that there would also be anxious moments spent over calculators and spreadsheets figuring overhead and spoilage but in my heart I see myself in jeans, a soft cotton button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up and my hands buried in green, living things, chatting away with people and loving every minute of it.

Colin's still pretty sure, cut flowers or no, that I'd kill everything in my shop long before I had the chance to send it home with anyone. Ah well - it's still a pretty thought.

Local Flavor

A great part of the move to OKC (I think probably my favorite part), has been discovering the food. Oklahoma City has some incredible local food - everything from steak to sushi and all the wandering pathways of delectables in between. And today, today I sampled one of the best treats I've found yet.

Check out this monstrosity:

In hindsight, I wish I had turned it around so you could see the onions and cheese exploding out the other side. I made a mess of myself with this sandwich - one bite in and I was wearing it. It was ridiculous. So much meat and this incredible overflow of melty cheese and sauteed onions - not to mention pickles, lettuce, tomato and a healthy helping of mayo and mustard... From the second we sat down (about two feet from the griddle) in this greasy spoon, Nic's, at 10th and Penn - I said 'There's no way I can eat all that.' Colin has long lamented the fact that I'll order a burger and eat only about 1/2 the meat before I take it out and just finish the bun.

The only thing left in that basket were a couple of the crispier fries.

Now, granted, I smelled like burgers the rest of the day because Nic's is maybe 300 square feet in total and you don't come out of a place like that not smelling like grease and onions. And, quite obviously, this blew all pretenses of going back on my diet today straight to hell. But it was worth it. I'd go back in a heartbeat.

I'd go back tomorrow if I had the time to wait in the line that gathers outside of the door (by 11:20) for a coveted seat at that battered wood bar. I'd go back for breakfast because I have a sneaky suspicion the pancakes are phenomenal and quite probably the size of my face. I'd go back for the meatloaf I've heard is even better than the burgers.

Nic himself makes all the food (right there, while you watch) and each time he passed me once he'd set my basket down he wanted to know if it was good. To be honest, I'm not sure if he ever got anything more than a grunt or an 'mmmmmmm' in response.

I was too busy taking bites that were way too big and licking my hands clean. I love food like that - the food that shuts your mouth and keeps you busy. This is not cozy-up-and-have-a-deep-conversation food. This is sit-down-and-shut-up-and-eat food.

Oklahoma City is good at that kind of food. Real good.

There's all sorts of other food less crazy in size and not so in-your-face - Sara Sara's Cupcakes makes these strawberry cupcakes where you actually bite into HUGE pieces of real, fresh strawberries and Sushi Neko has this incredible tuna dish with lemon slices... I can't even describe it right. Cattleman's has steak so tender I dissolved into giggles with each bite (and coming from a Texas girl - that means something) and the Pachinko Parlor has this amazing vermicelli bowl with fennel broth and wild mushrooms and shirataki noodles (gluten free Mom!!). The list goes on and on really.

Oh the food here is so good....

I know Oklahoma City is one of those places that's best known for really one thing that happened TO it and not really anything it's ever done itself, but that's just because people don't slow down and EAT here. The people in this city take great pride in their craft - and for a lot of them, that craft is turning out incredible food with quality ingredients.

And for an eater like me, that makes it easy to call home.

Progress

I left my painting class tonight covered in paint and grinning from ear to ear. I'm finally starting to get it.

Not that I have any idea what 'it' is exactly - I just know that I'm starting to enjoy the process of painting more and I worry about the technicality less.

Nothing fancy and here it's assisted again by some app-magic but I'm still pretty proud of it. It even got a compliment out of the teacher (albeit for color variations essentially destroyed in this photograph).

I also tried to get pictures of the landscape I did but they didn't come out right - and I don't love it as much as I love the lonely flower anyway. Something about this painting appeals to me tonight. I think it probably has something to do with the fact that the promotion announcement came out firm-wide yesterday and today I felt a little like an ant being tortured by a child with a microscope. All it takes is one good thing happening to you and it seems like people come out of the woodwork to try to set you on fire.

Luckily, I'm not that flammable.

Odds & Ends

I know I've been gone for a while and I apologize because I'm sure you were hoping for something special when I got back but all I really have to share is miscellaneous happenings and thoughts from the past few weeks.

First off, a decision is made.

After much hunting and extensive research (very characteristic of the way I approach just about anything), Colin and I finally found a beautiful place to stay on our trip to Seattle later this month. We went back and forth between fancy splurging and bare-bones practicality, between local flavor and piling up Hilton rewards points. I finally won the argument against a chain by telling Colin I was absolutely set on staying in the Capitol Hill neighborhood (where there aren't any Hiltons, conveniently enough). Then I sealed the deal by showing him this picture of my first choice, a lovely bed and breakfast in a gorgeous, fully-restored Craftsman - the Gaslight Inn.

We are getting more and more excited about our trip - our first true vacation just the two of us since our honeymoon four years ago. I have uncovered all sorts of exciting things for us to do as well as rich, quiet places to spend lazy afternoons and warm restaurants in which to spend late evenings. (I decided I find it very fitting that someone like me, a self-declared "eater", should travel to a city with the word EAT in its name.) It will be a welcome respite for us after these hectic months of Colin going back to school and my long hours at work.

And another decision, made by someone else.

I also found out this week that, much to my surprise, the partners at work decided to promote me to manager as of January 1. I was surprised because I had previously been told I would not be eligible this year because they want five years experience and I only have four and a half. I'm excited, though somewhat intimated, by the challenge. I've been trying to tell myself that such feelings are natural - I find I do my best work when I have a healthy respect for the potential difficulties of the task at hand.

A somewhat-unexpected response to the news.

The day after I was informed of the promotion, the partners informed the rest of the department. The evening in between Colin took me to the mall - I wanted a nice shirt or sweater to wear to the announcement. Somehow, the fun search for a simple shirt ended with me in a dressing room at Ann Taylor, beset by two women bringing me all manner of suits, dress shoes and trendy, high-belted satin shirts. Colin came around the corner of the dressing room to find me, all dressed up in $400 worth of fanciness, in a state of utter panic.

"Can we please leave now?!?"

In that moment I was completely overwhelmed by what this new position might mean. Did it really mean I needed fancy, high-heeled shoes and suits? Did I need to change my approach to work and appearance and life? I'm a casual person by nature, flat shoes, comfy sweaters, no makeup and no hair 'style'. And I like that part of me. I always do my best to look professional but within those very specific guidelines - professional, and yet comfortable. Something about seeing myself in the mirror all dolled up in business professional dress made me worry that this might not be such a positive change after all.

We left the mall and immediately drove to Target where I bought a $7 shirt, $17 shoes and a $10 purse, all of which looked like me and worked perfectly for the big luncheon and all the shaking of hands and excited chatter that followed it.

The dressing room experience helped remind me - it's all what I make of the change that matters. In the end, I have to take this new position and make it my own and do it in my own way. I will continue to be professional in appearance, in my own comfortable way. Who I am got me promoted - so hopefully that same person can help me succeed once it happens.

In reward, a long-awaited treat, and a slight rebellion of sorts.

I'm not sure if it was entirely driven by the promotion and the dressing room episode but I finally made up my mind to do something I've long contemplated. Colin was so glad that "after five years of talking about it" I finally found a local place with a good reputation and high standards, and we went yesterday.

It is, after all, very small and I would imagine that 99% of the people who meet me will not have any idea it is even there. But I love it and it speaks to me because it signifies a return to myself and of honoring who I am, work position notwithstanding. I battle sometimes between who I am during the week and who I am in my head and this was a nice way of making sure both are getting equal representation.

Beyond that, the continuation of just a simple life.

Not much else is new. Colin's late classes and my overtime have kept us busy and we get home, collapse on the couch and talk in hushed voices about wayward staffers and forgetful professors while our house slowly gets messier and our four-legged babies beg for attention. My running has taken a back seat to other duties and I must now renew my efforts at a more determined pace in order to ready myself for the marathon relay. I have also been doing a terrible job at cooking new recipes and I've realized this weekend that I should be using Colin's late classes as the chance it is to try out recipes I know he would refuse to eat.

There's always something to work on.