A Resolution

Because once a year is simply not enough time to pack in all the resolutions that need made in my life, my August resolution is: Will stop diagnosing myself based on internet articles and/or chat rooms. This can only lead to embarrassment during an actual doctor's appointment.

Loving my CSA

6 ounces of chocolate + friends = a good thing

Two of my dear friends from ACU came down (and up) this weekend. We had a girl's weekend that was very, well, girl-y - in a feminist sort of way. It was awesome! Here are just a few reasons why I loved having them around:

-It was an excuse to make chocolate swirl cheesecake. This particular recipe had 6 ounces of baker's chocolate and a quarter cup of cocoa. I think I'll leave it at that.

-I was able to go see a chick flick and not feel guilty for dragging BJ to it.

-They already know all (or at least most) of my flaws, so I don't have to cover it up when I'm searching for my purse, shoes, keys, and cell phone all at the same time only to find them in four separate locations.

-They don't mind sleeping in the same bed, so they only dirty one set of sheets (score!).

-They help me get to know myself better. As it turns out, I'm a drama queen. Now I'm aware of that fact.

-When they get sleepy, they suddenly get worse at Scattagories, so I'm able to pull out one late night victory.

I could go one, but you get the point. They are awesome, and we had a lot of fun.

(To our Fat Tuesday friends, we really missed you all. Erin, we talked about how cute your new apartment is and how happy we are you found a good job. Carolyn, we talked about how great Josh seems to be and how you seem to be making a great couple. And Em, we talked about the baby, of course. We can't wait to meet her. Love you all!)

Whizzing with Gus

I few weeks ago, we stained our deck. During the 24 hour span that it took for the deck to dry, the dogs had to do their business in the front yard. That morning, I woke up early for work and let Gus out, only to be surprised in my very groggy state when Gus immediately ran to our monkey grass, straddled it, and peed. I found this hilarious. The next morning, I was curious if he would do the same thing if I took him to the front with my camera. As you can see below, he did:

Finding this odd behavior hilarious, I embarked on a weeklong morning ritual/photoshoot of letting Gus out in the front yard and seeing what he did. Here's what happened:

(that's a visiting dog in the background)

This particular blogpost is probably a pretty good indicator that I should get a life. I promise that if I ever have children, I will not subject you to any blogpost of this sort. I promise. But this is a dog, so who cares.

Family in Kentucky

I have gone way longer than is usual without posting, but I have a really good excuse. Mom, Dad, and Bro have been in town, and we have been packing a year's worth of activity into one week. It's been fun, but as always, it went way too fast. Mom and Dad drove off yesterday morning leaving me crying in front of a donut shop where we had preemptively drowned our sorrows in a breakfast of glazed goodness. Thankfully, Bro is staying on for another week.

This is by far the longest time Bro has ever spent in Kentucky. For the most part, he is enjoying the beautiful scenery and plethora of local jellies, but yesterday brought him face to face with a side of Kentucky culture that doesn't exactly mesh with our family. He was looking for a Time or Newsweek magazine in Mayfield, the closest town to Farmington. We went to Walmart where he thought he could surely find one. Instead, he found 18 different varieties of magazines on guns and one on knives, but no Time or Newsweek. For my pacifist-liberal-Democrat brother, this was disappointing to say the least. Thankfully, we do have the internet and it's wide range of non-gun realted news journals, so I think he'll make it one more week.

My ever-eroding sanity

BJ is at church camp this week. I begged him not to go, but apparently, it's his job. So this is what happens when BJ leaves for a week:

• My Twitter feed becomes dribble about the loss of sanity.

• I miss church. I got caught up in a painting Sunday evening, and time passed without my noticing. I looked at the clock fifteen minutes after church had started. BJ is usually at a meeting before Sunday evening worship, but he always calls me at ten till to remind me to come.

• The dogs bark twice as much as usually. Without the head of the pack at home, they feel they have to be extra protective. If the tiniest noise is made outside, they start barking like we're being invaded. See, all of us are losing our sanity.

• I become paranoid about having my phone near me. The camp sight where BJ is has awful cell phone reception, so when he calls it means he made an effort to go find a spot with a bar or two of reception and he might not get a chance to call again for a while. Hence, my obsession with proximity to both my cell phone and house phone. I even take them to the bathroom with me.

• Unsuspecting items in our home become renovation projects. I was fidgety last night, so I painted the bar in our kitchen lime green.

• BJ's voice-mail box starts filling up with sappy confessions of loneliness and love from me. I haven't listened to classic country music all these years for nothing.
  

Needless to say, BJ needs to come home. We are a pathetic lot without him. All except for Tony. Tony is pretty happy with the current situation. But three outnumber one, so I think I'll just go leave one more voice-mail. Really, just one more.

three years

It's been three years since I tacked "Gensic" onto my name, and that means it has been three years of posts about ridiculous things BJ has said, Sienna's disgusting bodily functions, Tony's evilness, and Gus's sweet but stupid nature. It's been a good three years.

It has also been a tough three years. Being an adult can just really, thoroughly suck. I used to look at my father and wander what the world looked like from way up there. I wandered if the ground seemed far away. Of course, I figured it was pretty awesome.

One night, when we were sitting in the car waiting for Mom to come out of the grocery store, I naively mused to my father about how much fun it must be to be grown up. Dad said something to this affect: "Being an adult is hard and scary, and you should enjoy everyday you get to be a child." He's a cheery guy, isn't he? At least he was always honest with me, and I guess he tried to warn me.

This morning, I woke BJ up, whispered "happy anniversary," and set a card on his chest. It's a card made from recycled paper, which makes me happy. BJ's first words were, "Oh! I'm a terrible husband. I forgot to pick you up a card." He then proceeded to tell me "Happy anniversary" with morning breath. It was one of those moments that could only be endearing if you love each other despite it all. Despite having moved so many times you're still exhausted, or having fought the world, or having occasionally fought each other, or even knowing that you've seen the crazy in each other displayed in broad daylight.

So I guess here's another mushy blog post to add to the plethora of mushy blog posts in my archives. And here's hoping the Lord blesses us with another year of chaos sprinkled with mushy moments. I'll be sure to keep you posted.

One for my homies down in Texas

(Take note: I am in fact cool enough to use the word homies.)

I have heard many jokes cracked by Yankees about how Texans are fat. Since I'm not a confrontational person, my general response to these jokes is to think to myself, "Have you seen the rest of the country?"

Today, I was reading an article about obesity in America, and I came across this eye-opening sentence: "A number of impoverished states — including Montana, Texas and New Mexico — have relatively low levels of obesity." That's right. We have a "relatively low" level of fatness. We may be fat, but we're not that fat when you start looking around the rest of the country.

I've decided that most of the insults thrown at Texas (and believe me, insulting Texas is a favorite pass time of people outside of the Lone Star State) are due to the inferiority complexes of other states. These kicks below the belt really have nothing to do with Texas, and they have everything to do with those who like to throw the insults. So people, don't hate us because we are relatively skinny. It's all the jalapenos burning calories within us.

(As a side note, my Mom is contributing to making Texas skinnier. She has officially lost 25 pounds this year! Go Mom!)

Because the paint was goopy and pretty

Last night, I shelled some fresh beans from my CSA and put them on to boil. I seasoned them perfectly with jalapenos, onions, and a little bacon. I then went to the living room and practiced the piano. I almost got distracted and let them burn, but I caught it just in time to add more water. After playing the piano, I went to the art room to finish my bird painting (the afore-mentioned bird painting that distracted me from cleaning house when I was preparing for company). In that room, I got really, deeply absorbed in a specific shade of orangy-sienna. It was beautiful. About 45 minutes later I noticed a funny smell coming into the art room. The beans were burnt, and I mean burnt. It smelled disgusting.

I proceeded to yell "CRAP" as I ran to the kitchen. When I came back to the art room, BJ was sitting at his computer smiling at me. I said, "I forgot about the beans and burned them. They're ruined." BJ replied, "You're an artist. That's what you do. You burn beans." And as usual, he was right.

The crucial difference between me and my mother

My mom and dad live in a beautiful, two-story house built in the twenties. Through almost twenty years of constant renovation, they have made it a charming and warm refuge for family and friends. When BJ and I started house hunting, I purposely sought a house to reflect my childhood home, and I found it: two-stories, old, and quaint.

When my parents have visitors coming, my mother frets about her house. It has to be perfectly clean and perfectly charming. Like her, I fret, also. I want to create an atmosphere of peace and welcome for my visitors, so I come up with a long to-do list the week before we have company.

Tonight, I have four of BJ's family members coming in, and on Friday, we will welcome another 8 people. Those eight won't be sleeping at our house, but they will be spending the days this weekend in our home. So if you are counting, we will have twelve visitors for the Fourth.

So, in "I'm becoming my mother" fashion, I have made a long list for cleaning, and I've spent mental energy fretting over my house. But I have also discovered one crucial difference between me and my mother. When Mom has a cleaning agenda prior to company, she does it. When I have one, I go to my art room and paint a bird. This is problematic.

So I've spent the past few days playing with the mat board cutter my brother got me for Christmas and contemplating the best composition for a bird painting I've been prepping for over the past couple of weeks. Neither of these things contribute to a clean house. In fact, they both make a mess.

Thankfully, due to my new thyroid medication (that is a whole other blog post for another day) I have energy abounding, so I've managed to fit in cleaning here and there, and BJ's never-ending obbsession with clean floors hasn't hurt. So bring on the company. We're ready even if we're not ready quite to my mother's standard.

July again

We are only two days from July, and that has got me reflecting on my life over the past few years. July has been an eventful month for BJ and I. In July of 2006, we got married. In 2007, we moved to Dallas. And, of course, last July we moved to Kentucky. Although we will have a lot of company this month, July is looking pretty uneventful in comparison to the past three years.

It is hard to believe that BJ and I have been married for three years, and it is even harder to believe that we have lived in three entirely different places. I keep trying to pen down how I am going to define my first years of marriage in the years ahead, and I'm not sure how to neatly phrase it. "We were never bored." Or maybe, "Where to now?"

BJ and I don't do anything the easy way. Every place we've been has presented unique challenges. In Abilene, BJ felt numbed by jobs that were miles away from this education and passion. Dallas was a battlefield; BJ may have been called a "heretic," but he wasn't going to back down from teaching what he knew needed to be taught. And now Kentucky, where we are still trying to get our feet steadily placed under us. The one constant throughout all of this change was the necessity for team work. We each had to muster every ounce of perseverance and fortitude we had to make it through to the next phase.

In some ways, I fear life becoming too settled. What has always brought BJ and I together has been an 'us against the world' mentality. In Abilene, we had to have patience, Dallas required strength, and Kentucky is demanding courage and trust in God. I probably don't need to get too worried about the sudden settling of dust around us, though. After all, BJ has a way of shaking things up when I least expect it. That is what makes being Mrs. BJ Gensic so much fun.

Summer days

Last year, we moved into our house at the beginning of fall, so this is the first time we have really been able to enjoy our yard and patio. As it has (finally) warmed up, we've been spending more and more time outside. I have a small, potted herb garden and a huge flower bed I am trying to take care of. Of course, I don't know anything about gardening, so my flower bed consist of every flower whose seed-packet picture was pretty. I'm guessing that once the flowers start blooming it will look like a collage a disorder. I'll have a better idea of what to do next year.

When I get home from work, I cook us a meal with our fresh vegetables from the CSA. BJ can't believe some of the things he is learning to like (turnips, radish greens, kale, etc.) According to BJ, I am stuffing him full of vegetables. After dinner, we hop in the pool where we are able to think of all sorts of ways to hurt each other. Pools are so much fun. Sienna generally hops in and takes a few laps. After the pool, I head in and either do some little house project or work on art. It's a pretty good system we have going here.

The miraculous part of all of this is that I am starting to see the slightest darkening of my skin. It's nothing drastic. I certainly wouldn't call it a tan. In fact, it is more just a subtle connecting of my freckles. Now let me be clear: I wear sunscreen when I am out (I will not be looking like a leather bag when I am forty). But a healthy glow doesn't hurt, whereas the glare off of my former paleness probable did hurt some eyes. So I'm going to embrace what BJ once called "a darker shade of white," and I will call it a "glow."

Things I'm missing about Texas

I like Kentucky, but some days I really miss home. Today, I'm missing...

...cilantro. No one puts it in their salsa here.

...bluebonnets. Bluebonnets are a part of life in Texas. We all grew up in Texas reading Legend of the Bluebonnets and being told that we were never to pick them. They taught me to respect my environment. They froze over when my grandmother died, and a few days after the funeral, they thawed out and continued to live for another month. When I graduated from college, my college girlfriends and I did a farewell photo shoot in a field of bluebonnets. I haven't seen a field of bluebonnets in over a year.

...three-digit weather. You don't think you'll ever miss it, but you do.

...family, family, and family.

...days without rain. It rains here everyday. BJ and I have been trying to stain our deck for two weeks, and we haven't had a forecast without rain for a long enough span to stain anything. I've never liked rain, and this is truly ridiculous.

I'm sure I could think of things I don't miss, but for the past few weeks, all I can seem to remember are the things I do miss. I've never been a proud, boasting Texan. You won't find any Texas flags in my house or on my clothes, and I won't ever try to rub it in that we are somehow a superior state to Kentucky or any other state. I'm not that sort, and I don't respect that kind of narrow-mindedness. However, it is my home, and I do love it. And, incidentally, I would sing "The Yellow Rose of Texas" if it would mean getting a number 4 from Los Arcos right now. Believe me, I would.

From BJ's sermon this week

"Next, we commit to standing up for what we believe in, for what is right. There are things worth fighting over on this side of life, and we will fight for them. But when the world comes to fight against us with its hatred and its animosity and its pain, we will bring none of those things. We will turn the other cheek. We will walk the extra mile. We will do the hard work of forgiveness before the sun sets on our anger, and contrary to what many will think, this will not make us pushovers. No, we will be the ones with the courage to walk a different path, because it is God who empowers us. Christ showed his followers where to make their stand, and we will do it. We shall not be moved, but in our hands we will hold self-sacrifice and love of our enemies. So Christ stood. So we shall stand."
BJ Gensic, "Does Jesus Speak to This" June 7, 2009

I know it is kind of brag-y to post his writing here, but I am just so proud of him. I can't help myself.

Curtains and more curtains and more...

I have lived in my house for nine months now. Each month, I fall a little more in love with it's numerous quirks and idiosyncrasies. The best part about having a home of which you really fell ownership is the never-ending process of molding that home into an aesthetic conglomerate that represents you, your family, and your taste. For me, this process has most obviously played itself out through the outfitting of windows. As of this weekend, I have officially sewn curtains or valances to outfit fifteen windows. Here is a quick run through of my sewing extravaganza.

First off, I made curtains for our living room when I was still at the rental waiting for our sell to go through. The trim matches our pillows:


The night I found out we would close the next day and get our house, I threw together this little valance out of scrap fabric from the living room curtains and pillows. I added the embroidery stitch by hand to keep it from being too plain:


Next, I decided to revamp my kitchen. Our house was built in the 1940s, so I was really wanting to capture a "Leave it to Beaver" feel without being too hokey. After thoroughly researching fabrics online and at stores, here is what I came up with:


After the kitchen curtains, I decided to remedy a problem that has irritated me since I got here. The curtains the previous owner left in the sun room where dark and heavy and didn't let any sun through. What's the point of having a sun room if the sun never comes through? So I sewed light-weight valances that let the light shine through:


Lastly, I wanted to give the guest bedroom a warmer feel by adding some curtains. Unfortunately, by this point I was feeling a little guilty about how much money I had spent on curtain fabric. To be more efficient, I made very simple valances and added an embellishment of ribbon to dress it up a bit:


So this is how I've amused myself during my first year as homeowner. Knowing me, I will soon get the itch to sew again, so if you are in need of custom curtains, let me know. Hope I haven't bored anyone too much. I just get really excited by fabric and thread and ribbons. And believe me, I know I'm a nerd.

CSA

My father used to joke that I would have made a wonderful hippi. Frankly, he had a pretty good point. I'm a peace lover, art is my life, nature and being gentle on the environment ranks high on my priority list, and I wear loose, flowing dresses on a very regular basis. So other than the drugs and free sex thing, I'd say he wasn't too far off.

My most recent expression of my inner-hippi has been through food. This summer, I signed me and BJ up for a CSA (community supported agriculture). The way it works is I paid into a family-run, organic farm near Murray, and they deliver me a large basket of organically-grown produce every Thursday. It is awesome!!! Not only are you eating healthy, environmentally friendly foods, but you are also supporting local agriculture! To give you an idea of how happy this makes me, just know that I don't usually use exclamation marks. It's rare and significant for them to show up.

The funnest part of the CSA is that I'm getting tons of vegetables that I've never cooked before, so I am being challenged to learn new recipes and cooking methods. BJ is walking into the unknown almost every meal. Here is a conversation between us from earlier this week:

Me: We are going to have swiss chard in our basket this week.
BJ: I don't even know what swiss chard is.
Me: It is something I'll be cooking in bacon for you.

And I did cook it in bacon. It was wonderful!

Taking time to roll in the flowers

When Gus came in this morning from his morning 'business' (aka poop), he had white flower petals sprinkled throughout his hair. He looked lovely. I have no idea how he managed the even, aesthetically pleasing layout, but like I said, it was lovely. And in the spirit of beautiful spring mornings, I am going to focus on how precious Gus was with flowers in his hair and ignore the fact that I will be vacuuming those petals off my floor later today.

Absolutely Beautiful

I'm a jewelry person. I always have been. Orchestrating an outfit with interesting a beautiful jewelry is one of my favorite moments of a day. I'm no fashionista, but I do love putting a look together.

Yesterday, I was getting ready for church, and I realized that every piece of jewelry I had on had some special significance to me. My bracelet was a turquoise bracelet made from Texas turquoise, and it was a gift from my sister and brother in-law. The earrings I was wearing were pearl and silver earrings my Dad bought me because we just so happened to be standing in Zales and he wanted to get me something. It wasn't Christmas or my birthday or some other holiday, it was just a regular day that he felt like making special. My necklace was a long, bulky silver piece that belonged to my Grandma Pierce. She liked gaudy jewelry, and, thankfully, I inhereted that passion. And, of course, I was also wearing my engagement and wedding rings. The story behind my engagement ring is ridiculously sappy, almost embarrasingly sappy, so I'll save that for another post.

I've always been told that we shouldn't take too much stock in material things, and I agree with that. But I love beauty, and I love feeling somehow connected to the people I love and miss because they live far away or have passed away many years ago. So in this context, I think my obsession is legitimized. But that is just some random musings from a very girly girl.

For all the secretaries out there

The worst part about any secretarial work is when you get griped out for matters over which you have absolutely no control. For example, when I worked at a garage door company in Abilene, I was chewed out over the phone because a worker driving our company vehicle had cut off someone on an entrance ramp to the highway. Guess how much control I had over that situation.

Today, I was chewed out because Murray State University takes too long to write checks. MSU is a college, and like any college it is a huge, complex bureaucracy. So, yes, it takes a long time to get a check written. Incidentally, it takes a long time no matter what the secretary in the Adventures in Math and Science Program says or does. In fact, the people who write those checks don't even know the poor little secretary in the Adventures of Math and Science Program, and they wouldn't care if they did. It would still take a long time to get the check written.

So people, be nice to the secretary. He or she has no power to do anything about anything. We can't make people drive better or bureaucracies run faster.

*deep breath* I've been needing to say that for about two years. I feel better.

A Revolutionary Post

I am going to take a short moment to be an English snob. This is necessary because it is wrong, I mean down-right wrong, for businesses to cheapen really good words for their advertising purposes. So here it goes.

Saturday, I was working on my final essay for the class I am currently taking, so lunch was a microwavable Lean Cuisine Panini. I was reading the instruction for microwaving, and it said to place the sandwich on their Revolutionary Grilling Tray (the words were actually bolded. I am not exagerating.) Now really - "revolutionary"? Is it revolutionary like that time the Americans decided to overthrow British rule? Or is it revolutionary like back when the French paupers decided to kill everyone who made $250,000 a year or more? Or maybe it is just revolutionary like the time we decided to stop using people and start using machines to make everything - like, for example, cardboard grilling trays? People, please. Grilling trays cannot, let me repeat in bold, cannot be revolutionary. That is a big, important word, and it should be used for big, important things. But thats all I have to say. I feel better now.