jo burgess hannon

fit for today, fit for life

Have you tucked your dreams away?

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Corduroy bellbottoms made by my mom, 1972 (Matching gold vest next to my flowered coat)
Corduroy bellbottoms made by my mom, 1972

 

When I was young my mom made most all of my clothes. If not, they usually came from the Goodwill. From about age 7, I begged her to teach me how to sew. I really wanted to learn how to run that sewing machine. She was so good at it, yet she always said she wasn’t; that it was her mom that was the real seamstress.

 

Grandma's patterns
Grandma’s patterns

 

Brothers Bill, Tim, Keith, my Mom. Shirts made by her mom.
Brothers Bill, Tim, Keith, my Mom. Shirts made by her mom.

 

So, yep, I can sew. Nope, I don’t make any of my own clothes. I used to, before fabric became more expensive than ready-made. Now I only dust off my sewing machine (a high school graduation gift) to hem a pair of pants or make a quick alteration. The last large sewing project was making a slipcover for a chair. Before that, I made matching clothes for my daughter and her dolls.

 

Halloween 2000
Halloween 2000

 

I’ve always loved the hand sewing part of finishing a project. For a while I wanted to be a quilter. I was inspired by some amazing quilts made by my Aunt Marni. I bought a few basic supplies like a cutting wheel and quilting square, but never did make a quilt. Now, years later, as I am donating those items, I realize I was fantasizing about being an awesome quilt maker. I really never wanted to go to all the work required to make that quilt happen, I just wanted the beautiful quilt.

So how about you? Do have a fantasy of who you want to be; yet reality is you haven’t put in the work? Are you ok with letting it go?

No quilt guilt for me.

Is it all perspective?

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December is Seattle’s rainiest month. Half the time, the city receives 5 to 8 inches of precipitation for the month.

daffodils blooming in February, in the rain.
daffodils blooming in February, in the rain.

 

Yes, the Daffs look a little soggy.  It’s raining here.  I meant to snap a photo yesterday when it was dry.  I heard a news clip saying something about lots of rain and records being broke.  I tried to look it up this morning because I just wasn’t feeling the crush of a low, hanging gray sky like I have in the past.  Spoiler alert, if rain depresses you, don’t look up Seattle averages.  For 2015 we were 7 inches about the average and most of those extra inches of rain accumulated in December.

Here’s the thing; I have lived here my whole life.  I feel like I have seen more Seattle blue sky in the last 12 months than I ever have in any 1 year period.  I think it is true, but when I look at the weather stats, I question myself.  Maybe it is just the way the rain has fallen.  Somedays I am running into the Y, hood up, trying to quickly escape the pelting drops.  That same afternoon, I drive along in glorious sunshine, with blue skies mixed in with the fluffy white clouds, trying to remember the morning rain as my wipers squeak across the dry windshield. Has the weather pattern changed where we get more rain all at once, instead of that never ending drizzle that seems to go on for days?

I’m not sure. And then I look out my window and see the daffodils blooming.  They make me smile. Maybe in the past I have been so grumpy about the rain I never really appreciated the patches of blue sky we do get. I am trying to adopt a motto of one of my Y friends, ‘don’t squander a sunny day’.  However, most days my to-do list is long and I don’t have a whole day to take off and be outside.  So instead I am trying to appreciate a sunny moment, feel the sun on my face, the bright in my eyes. And, try not to notice my windows are dirty.

Who’s drum do you march to?

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What is your Indian name?
What is your Indian name?

2016

I don’t have the habit of writing 2016 yet. Some years it has taken several weeks to remember to write the correct year. I used to make more mistakes when I was writing several checks a week. With computers and bill pay I don’t often have to actually write out the date anymore. Anyway, I thought with a new year upon us I would take some time to highlight an article I recently read called 12 Things You Don’t Owe Anyone.

The question is posed, “So do you remember who you were before the world told you who you had to be?”

Being the youngest of a big family, I learned early how to stand up for myself and I have always felt that I was bold, decisive, opinionated, in charge of my life. (I was in my late 20’s before I realized these traits could bring both good and bad.) However, I slowly starting grasping that my life had become a series of choices based on what I thought everyone else expected of me. I have always said I am a good copier.  Show me what someone else has created and I can usually figure out how to make a duplicate.  I was living each day to please family, friends, business partners.

When I saw the question Marc Chernov wrote, “so do you remember who you were before the world told you who you had to be?” I understood what he was asking. The struggle was real trying to remember whom I represented. In fact I was forgetting this: I needed to best represent myself.

What I wish for you in this year of 2016 is for you to live your best you. Maybe a statement or two from Marc’s article will resonate and inspire you to move forward.

The thank you note: is it a lost art?

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The outside thermometer hit 23 degrees this morning!

 

As the stockings come down and the ornaments are put away, out come the notecards to send to family and friends. Though I have often taken the time to write notes of thanks and gratitude sometimes I have sent them out of obligation. Have you ever done that? Sent a thank you card because you knew you should, or maybe even because your mamma told you to? We have a goofy saying around our house, “I’m too old to eat broccoli if I don’t want to!”

I have learned a lot of lessons over the years and I have to admit I did not think our daughter’s wedding would provide so many opportunities to learn and re-learn the teachings of life.  As expressed previously, I have been grateful for all the love shown to my family. I wrote notes to a few ladies that were particularly helpful. Honey and I wrote more notes a few weeks later to others that helped make the day a joy for us. For every single note we sent, we received a text or email back thanking us for our thank you note. I know, kind of weird, right?

Here’s the lesson: people appreciate being appreciated. So after you pack up all your holiday decorations, consider taking the time to make a call, send a text, write a note to those that helped make your season bright.