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This is me pausing. Pawsing. I have lots of kittens on my porch, so I think “pawsing” is more what’s going on here.
The last two weeks have plowed me over in such a way as I haven’t been since last year at this time when I went to two funerals in two weeks for two grandpas. It seemed like every dawn brought a new punch, and after 8 solid days of punches, I woke up with the thinnest skin in the west. I think I got my feelings hurt 5,000 million times in one afternoon. Not like me at’ll.
By some miraculous, fortuitous God-planning, a counseling session I’d set up TWO months ago landed on Monday, right when I needed it. She said two helpful things.
#1) “Alicia, your reserves are depleted in every way in your life. Let’s form a plan to build them back up.”
#2) “Alicia, you struggle saying no to others, but more than that? You struggle saying no to yourself. You can’t do everything for everyone always, no matter how much you want to.”
I’ve spent this week focusing on rebuilding my reserves spiritually, physically and emotionally. These past few weeks come at the end of two months of me falling off the wagon. I’ve been eating whatever and not moving my body and not thinking nice thoughts about my body, so I was pretty much geared up for a good and solid beating anyway.
This week I’ve crawled all bloodied back onto the wagon:
Prayers, meditations, readings, yoga-ings, and lots and lots of drinking.
Lots.
So much drinking.
For a few years, I’ve wanted to set up a drink station in my home. This week, that fire of desire burned brighter than ever because I spent so much time with a cup pressed to my lips.
Smoothies, green juice, green smoothies, teas! Oftentimes, I’ll down homemade broth because it helps my achy joints.
Joints and drinking! How’s that for a Mormon Mommy?
Years ago, I caught a glimpse of a home makeover a poor married couple did of a small house. It was so freaking cozy that I wanted to curl up and squat in that house for the rest of my life. It was filled with homemade stuff, recycled stuff, salvaged stuff… it was so soft and nice. I can’t find it again -I’ve looked. But the memory of it lives on in my brain.
One thing this house had was a few open shelves in the kitchen with a beautifully simple sign that read, “Cuppa” on it.
Since that day, I’ve longed with all my fibers for a drink station with cups waiting to turn into magical cuppas.
I tried rigging a spice rack into a drink station, but it isn’t working.
I sigh about that a lot.
Last night, after a couple of long weeks where Danny and I tried to extend grace to each other as best we could (I failed pretty much across the board), we went on a date to Sonic and then Wal-Mart. We did a little Christmas shopping, and he indulged my mug shopping.
Window style.
Because there’s no point in buying mugs when you have no cuppa station.
*sighhhh*
The Pioneer Woman has some gorgeous mugs to choose from, but her Christmas mug outdoes them all because it is big enough to hold tea, broth, chili and all of my hopes and dreams. I kept picking it up and putting it down. Picking it up.
Putting it down.
(photo from eBay)
It’s one of those, “I’m leaving without this, and if I go home and can’t stop thinking about it, I’ll come back for it.”
Like love, amIright?
I love walking through all of The Pioneer Woman’s stuff in Wal-Mart. I don’t love it all nor do I want to own it all, but just walking through all of the bright pops of color puts a bounce in my step. I always detour my shopping through her stuff.
And as I was walking away from the mugs, I bumped into this:
“Danny, do you know what this is?” I held it up in reverence. Anyone might’ve thought it was a magical lamp, waiting to be rubbed.
“Uh…”
“This. Is for the drink station,” my proclamation was final.
The fictional drink station that’s been in my head must come out. We’ve waited around long enough. The spice rack is tired of pretending to be something it isn’t.
And with The Pioneer Woman’s flea market find holding the seemingly endless supply of herbal tea I can’t seem to stop buying (judge not lest ye by judged, homey), magic will begin unfolding.
I don’t usually make plans, but when something really matters, I make exceptions.
This matters.
Drinks matter.
Health matters.
Family matters.
See? It’s all important.
FIRST.
I found plans to build a corner hutch because that’s the only available space in my home… a corner.
Mine will be white, no crackle. Crackle always reminds of the crackle nail polish that was all the rage when I was a kid, and I don’t like my house looking like 90’s nails.
The flea market tea rack will fit nicely on it.
So will the mugs I do have.
So will my colorful stack of hot pads.
So will a CUPPA sign.
So will a simple kettle. None of those flowery kettles we see now-a-days. The kettle will be simple and classy: a regular Julie Andrews in kettle form!
Yassssssssss.
I’ll design a “CUPPA” sign, and the world will be at rest because there will be space made for things that are important to our family:
Drinking together.
I can’t keep my hands off my roasted dandelion root tea, which I’ve felt strongly I need to down daily. Everyone hates it except me, and I’m dancing about that.
Wish it worked for the chocolate.
My Granny -our resident midwife and healer -told me you can buy a special blend of herb tea that tastes similar to coffee and is loaded with health benefits. I looked it up on Amazon, and she’s right. Dandy Blend! This stuff is going to find a home in my drinking station. If there’s anything my body is craving right now, it’s DETOX, and this blend has it in spades. Also, the mix of herbs in this tea is mentioned in the series “Good Witch” on Netflix (from Hallmark, I believe). Dandelion, chicory, and beet root.
Get.in.my.belly.
The drinking station is all but complete.
It’s been dreamed and planned, so it’s only a matter of time.
It will be a great resting place for my cups and mugs -they serve me faithfully everyday and they deserve a pretty resting place.
Ironically, the drink station will be the resting place for the rest of us as well.
We all love us a good cuppa.
And how cute is this drink station I found while searching for the first one I found?
Found here.
A final word on drinks:
I’ve been green juicing daily during this last week of restocking my personal reserves, and I’m laughing at myself because I enjoy it so much.
Did you know that in high school, I used to drink Dr. Pepper and eat a Snickers for lunch? It was my favorite lunch!
And here I am, 31 and achy, getting all giddy over my green juice.
Whole Foods in Flagstaff, AZ has a JUICE BAR which means a lot to me because they juice everything fresh while I wait and then I can drink it without the bother of cleaning up.
As I’ve trudged this path of juicing my veggies, I found a guide in Kris Carr -a cancer thriver who has juiced so much that I can just steal her tips without making too many mistakes of my own. I appreciate this because I’m pretty sure one bad (read: NASTY) batch of green juice, and I’m pretty sure I’d be turned off forever.
You can buy some great books with her juice recipes.
I cruise her site and use her juice recipes, modifying them as I go. My latest favorite is a juice geared toward making my stomach happy which I really need with chronic stomach crap (literally, friends).
Danny and I had a good laugh on our drive home from our date about our green juices. Definitely not something I would have ever thought I’d be excited about!
I throw it onto my growing pile of Things I Used to Think Were Bat-Crap Crazy… riiiiiiight on top of yoga.
Namastay crazy, my friends. And know I’ll always be right there with you.
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