Tuesday, May 7, 2019

Ready To Launch

Moondawg and four of her makers. 

Tonight I met a rocket named Moondawg. A team of 150 students from University of Washington have built her over the last eight months, and put the last few nuts and bolts together just in time to carry her across the street and present her to a breathless and highly appreciative audience. 

Next month, Moondawg will road trip down to Las Cruces, New Mexico, and blast off into the heavens via nitrous oxide and paraffin wax. With any luck, she will reach 30,000 feet with 1200 pounds of thrust, and then drift harmlessly back to earth. There will be other rockets there - well over a hundred of them - all competing in this exercise known as the Spaceport America Cup.

But wait, I hear you saying. This is all well and good, these student rocket scientists and their lofty goals. But what does any of it have to do with you?

Before Moondawg was unveiled, we met these ten leaders who told us a bit about their area of the project - structures, avionics, recovery, payload, propulsion, and so on - and the special challenges they faced. Then the cloth covering the rocket was dramatically pulled away, cameras burst forth from everyone's pocket, and a massive photo blitzkrieg began. 


That's a very good question with a long answer. So let me explain.


As the months passed, I came to know many people in his family and friendship circles.

He invited me to come to Malaysia and see his tropical homeland with my own two eyes. Eventually, I did. I met more of his friends and more of his family. Friendships deepened. The circles continued to expand. 

Here's the entire team of 150 students - the Society for Advanced Rocket Propulsion or SARP - who launched this amazing project. You wanna find my friend, Aqil? Find the sideways W (for Washington) near the right end of the rocket. Aqil is standing in the first row behind the rocket, just to the right of the W, exactly where his work on the rocket is located. Proud papa. 


In the spring of 2015, my friend gave me some interesting news. His cousin had just accepted an offer to attend University of Washington. In Seattle. A quick half-hour drive from my house. Would I like to reach out to him and perhaps meet with him once he arrived in the States?

And so yet another new friendship was born. 

Aqil worked on the propulsion team, machining the chamber where the fuel will eventually be loaded. He's particularly proud of his work on the nozzle where blazing jets of fire will burn off as the rocket lifts off into space. Well, not actually space. But at least the troposphere.


Aqil and I became fast friends. A high-achieving aeronautical engineering major with a keen curiosity and a compassionate heart, it's been a joy to get to know him and welcome him into our family life. He's hung out with all the Streicher clan and dined at our table more times than I can remember. He brings his friends and roommates over. He also helps me cook.

And I've come to know his family - his brother has been to visit here in Seattle and come round to the house, and I was lucky enough to meet the rest of family when I visited them in Havana, Cuba, a few years back. I may or may not have carried a suitcase full of fried chicken back to Aqil at school straight from his mother's Cuban kitchen. 


There are two components to the rocket fuel: a cylinder of paraffin wax filled with an inner core of nitrous oxide, As Moondawg is going through final preparations for launch, the fuel team will load that cylinder into this chamber, and Aqil will fit a seal and then the nozzle underneath, and make sure everything is locked and loaded for takeoff. Then, somebody will strike a match. 

Just kidding. Pretty sure that's not how they do it.  

Now I hate to be a downer, but I'll admit I've been feeling sad lately as Aqil's senior year quickly winds down. In just another month, he will graduate, and soon be blasting off to graduate school. Certainly, Aqil is meant for great things and will eventually be traveling all over the world if not orbiting the planet or streaking across the solar system on the great adventure of his life.

As much as I wish him well, I can't help feeling a bit sad to think that his time at UW is quickly coming to a close, and our fascinatingly different paths are about to diverge. 

I suppose it was no surprise that everyone and their mom was crowding around the freshly unveiled rocket and trying to get photos of their student posing proudly in front. But was it really too much to ask for everyone to take five steps back while I captured the full length of Moondawg with Aqil at the far end all by himself? 

But here's the good news. Aqil has accepted an offer to attend grad school at...University of Washington! He's staying here in Seattle for at least a few more years, and I am over the moon. 

As the crowds slowly dwindled away from the rocket and off toward the refreshments, Aqil and his buddies got a chance to pose by their beloved work on the back end of the rocket. As they stood a bit stiffly, my husband called up to Aqil, "Point to the part you made!" Aqil's arm quickly shot up, and the photo was made. 

 Even better, in the next instant, two of his buddies also obediently followed that instruction, leaving everyone in the room no doubt about where their rocket-building loyalties lie. 

So here's to you, Moondawg; may you fly high and true in Las Cruces and make all your SARP stars proud.

And here's to you too, Aqil. I admire your passion and your drive and your quiet determination to make all your high-flying dreams come true. I am proud of you and I can't wait to see what you do next.

* * * * *

More stories about my friend, Aqil:

Sunday, May 5, 2019

Reading Insights



Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn

Can you ever truly go home again? That's the question this second-rate journalist from a third-rate Chicago newspaper attempts to answer as she heads back to her podunk Missouri hometown to investigate a string of murders. Camille's broken family relationships, tendency to over-drink, obsession with cutting herself, and predilection for falling into bed with the wrong men notwithstanding, she eventually shaves away the distractions and gets at the truth. 


* * * * *

Without giving away too much, let me say that one of the central themes of this story explores the human need to be needed, and what happens when that desire runs unchecked. 

Interestingly, this question has been bubbling up in multiple places across my life this past week; I've stumbled across books, movies, and TV shows delving into different facets of this overwhelming need to be needed. Thankfully, the sources are all works of fiction, but they pose chilling and intriguing scenarios of how far adults - especially parents - will go to keep children in a state of prolonged dependency so that they, the grown-ups, can hold onto the feelings of connection and intimacy that come from caring for their vulnerable charges. 

While our storytellers spin out dramatic tales of poisonings, deceptions, and murder, the truth is that most adults must face this same painful transition in our everyday lives as parents.

We bring helpless infants into this world, literally unable to even hold their own heads up, let alone fend for themselves. For the next two decades, we devote ourselves tirelessly to protecting them, providing for them, pouring our hearts out to give them whatever they need. 

And then, in what feels like a snap of the fingers to us parents, our children grow up. They become capable, self-contained human beings and they no longer need us. 

Oh, of course, they still love us and enjoy the security we represent. They like having us around and even come to appreciate the ways we cared for them back in the day when they needed us. 

But once they are grown, our children don't need us any more. And as this book and the other stories like it caution us, we parents must never ever fool ourselves into thinking that they do. 

So what are we to do, we humans who need to be needed, once our children no longer need us?

Here is the best answer I have worked out so far. With God's blessing, we set our children free, and we carry on with our own lives to see where else in the world we might be needed. 

* * * * *

P.S. In case you're wondering, I did not buy this book. I borrowed it from my first-born which just goes to show that sometimes, I'm the one who needs her. 

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Saturday, May 4, 2019

The First Test

Well, that didn't take long. Three days in to my year-long shopping ban, I faced the first test of my resolve.

Spoilers: I did good. My commitment to the challenge won out over temptation, but I'm not ashamed to say I was sorely tested.

My saga began when my first born asked if I would like to meet her at Cost Plus World Market so she could show me some things she might want for her upcoming birthday.

Of course, I replied. The constraints of the shopping ban flickered in the back of my mind but I wasn't worried. This trip was all about her gifts, right? Surely I could stay true to that purpose.

By the time I caught up with her, my daughter's cart was half full of adorable items. Her goal is to ask for birthday gifts to zhuzh up her patio space, so she had gathered up a handful of adorable outdoor items: a seat cushion, some pillows, a floor mat, string lights, that sort of thing.

I love that sort of thing.

Suddenly I was intoxicated. I felt a sudden rush of warmth - adrenaline, I suppose - and a irrational desire to buy something - anything! - to spunk up my own outdoor space.

Oh, there was so much to choose from.

^Natural rattan candle lantern, made in Vietnam. Want.

^ Whoever invented solar powered string lights, I love you. 

^ A long, unbroken wall runs along one side of my front patio, and this hanging would be perfect for adding some textural interest. 

^ Orange, geometric, and metal. Three adorable characteristics for a side table. 

^ I am a huge fan of outdoor mats. They feel so cozy on my always bare feet. 

^ Those tassels are too much. In all the right ways. 


^ This pattern strikes me as the perfect balance between busy and calming. 

^ Outdoor candles. I am a fan. 

^ This optical illusion-y pattern is one of my favorites. 

 ^ I love geometric prints even more when they are paired with an organic, flowing pattern. Especially botanicals. 

^ These wind chimes are insanely aesthetically simple, clean, and pure. I love them.

^ Another floor mat that would feel happy under my feet. 

^ What a cool, sculptural chair. I would fight to be the first person to sit in it every day. 


My conditioned reflexes quickly ruled out any purchase into three figures; I'm good at pulling back from even moderate extravagance. But the floor mats were $40; adorable wind chimes went for a mere $15. Surely a small item or two to freshen up my patio and celebrate the promise of a new summer would not violate my shopping ban. I ran my shopping rules over and over in my head, looking for a loophole.

All of this happened in less than a minute.

And then my true mind stepped in. You know, that mature mind, the soulful mind, that looks into my life and holds me to my best ideals and my truest self. That mind laughed at my silly attempts to negotiate away my own best interests and sabotage my grand design just two days into a year-long commitment.

I let go of my longings and turned my attention back to my daughter's cart full of birthday gifts.

I bought everything she had picked out, brought it home, and arranged it on the dining room table so the rest of the family could shop from this inventory. On the evening of her birthday, we will bring everything back to her place, wrapped in festive paper. She will open the gifts and we will all decorate her patio together.

And that will be much more fun than buying more things for me, me, me.

I'm glad I passed my first test.

Friday, May 3, 2019

My Decluttering Rules

So a few years back, my minimalist guru, Cait Flanders, set out a three-point plan for reining in her debit cards, ratcheting back her possessions, and redesigning her budgeting tools to make them work better for her life.


In fact, I liked the book so much that I am putting together my own year-long trifecta of shopping less, sorting through, and saving more of my money. 

Yesterday, I laid out my shopping ban rules. As I mentioned, I like to buy new things as much as the next person, but over-shopping is not a problem for me. I feel pretty confident that I can stick to my plan, stay focused on essentials, and let go of any impulses to overspend. We shall see what actually happens when I'm alone at night with twenty open Etsy windows and a debit card whispering in my ear, but right now I feel good. 

Now, with my shopping plan sorted, I'm ready to take on decluttering.

^ My gigantic antique pine cupboard is currently resting on its side in the garage, and I'm experimenting with this DIY slim shelf in its place. I cannot get enough of this new light and airy look. 

candlesticks | Crate & Barrel
coffee cups | Crate & Barrel
chair | IKEA

Let's get one thing straight. 

I love to declutter.

Love. Yes, love. That is not too strong a word to describe the swell of emotion I feel during a midnight sort-and-stash session in which I end up surrounded by a sea of paper grocery bags full of giveaways, and a counter/cupboard/shelf spaces that feels refreshed and ready to breathe.

I declutter regularly, whenever the whim strikes me, and I'm not ashamed to say that a special, secret  joy sneaks over me when I notice that a desktop or a drawer has been let go, and realize that I'll have a new mess to clean.

My closet right now is a bit out of sorts, and I'm waiting for a nice rainy day to lock myself into my bedroom and give it a good go. 

I feel ridiculously warm and cozy inside just thinking of the transformation that will transpire. 

^ In the afternoon sun, tiny rainbows sparkle across this wall near my back door, born from a pair of prisms that hang there. My first instinct was to leave the wall completely blank so the rainbows fully capture my attention. But that was a bit sterile even for me, so the painting and the plant were invited to come back. 

painting | me
chair | amazon
table | Saline Antique Market circa 1984
snake plant | Home Depot
basket | thrifted

And here's another true fact. 

During the past few months at our house, we've had some work on done on our floors that has required me to temporarily move  

every stick of furniture, 
every item on the walls, 
every single possession, 

out of every room of my house. Upstairs and down. 

And as my topsy turvy house has slowly returned to normal, I pretended that I was moving into a new house. Rather than just shoving everything back to its familiar place, 

every stick of furniture, 
every item on the walls, 
every single possession, 
in every room of my house, 

was considered anew. What I found was that I did not want to put everything back. I wanted less in my house - less furniture, less art, less stuff - and so I simply put back only what I wanted. 

^ In reassembling my family room, in order to let the brick and wood details really shine, I stripped all the color out of the room, save black, grey, white, and natural materials. After a few weeks of happy monochromatic living, I decided to get a little crazy and invite back a few tiny splashes of yellow. 

dried flowers | Etsy
ceramic vase | thrifted
pewter lamp | Country Village circa 1986
candles | mostly Target
bookshelf | Standy's Furniture Warehouse circa 1995
wooden box | my mom
petrified wood bookend | my father-in-law
books | mostly thrifted


This was a really fun project. And a fantastic way to make my house feel fresh and alive and ready for a new season of life.

But here is the problem:

My house looks great. But my garage is a disaster zone.

Because remember all those things that I decided not to bring back into the house?

Yeah. They are all jammed into the garage. 

Along with a fairly hefty heap of things that had already been sent out of the house. 

There's a lot of stuff out there, not jumbled in giant piles like a scene out of Hoarders, but neatly stacked and sorted and arranged in such a way that almost fools my eye into thinking the mess is not so bad. 

But it is. It is a really bad mess. 

^ For a long time, this painting sat alone on my family room mantle. Truth be told, I really like it as a stark solo arrangement. But during one of the many moments that I was shuffling things around in this room, I set the bird and the lamp - two fragile and cherished possessions - up on the mantle to protect them. And I found the trio to be a happy testimony to the mothers in my life. 

painting | me
ceramic bird | my mom
teak hurricane candle | my mother-in-law
logs | Abercrombie & Fitch display materials circa 2015
twinkle lights | Target
sheepskins | IKEA

So here's how my year-long decluttering plan is shaping up.

1. Declutter specific areas in the house that need help now:

My closet
Cabinets under my bathroom sinks
Dresser full of kid clothes waiting for my grandchildren to show up.
A few kitchen cupboards.
The LEGO closet playroom under the stairs. 

2. Continue routine decluttering wherever and whenever my whimsies dictate. 

3. Get that garage cleaned up. Within a year. No excuses.

^ These new desks for our office caught my eye with a sleek profile and a sturdy bamboo work surface. But my favorite feature is that each has three slim drawers, perfect for catching stray pens, important bills, and my coveted array of cute postage stamps. I love that my desk top is now a sleek and streamlined monument to outdated technology. 

painting | my second-born
desk | IKEA
computer | I can't even

Now I have no illusions. This garage project is going to be beastly difficult, and involve every member of the family because we've all got stuff stashed out there. And there are some deeply emotional items to be dealt with - how about my father-in-law's lifetime collection of slides, home movies, and photographic equipment, or his 100+ year collection of National Geographic magazines stored in a custom built cupboard?

I honestly do not know how we are going to get through this enormous and complex project. 

^ My husband's college filing cabinet has been taking up valuable space in our front hall closet for decades, and I finally decided I'd had enough of that nonsense. I informed my better half that we were in a do-or-die mode - either the cabinet moves into the office where we can actually put it to use, or out it would go. Lucky for him, the ancient metal beast is in immaculate condition and its color matches almost exactly to the wall. He blends in beautifully, and I invited him to stay. 

paper tiger | online circa 2012
photography | me
frames | IKEA
painting | me
filing cabinet | Sears circa 1974
wire baskets | Target


But, over the next year, that is exactly what we shall find out. 

* * * * *

Read more about my journey to mindful consumption:

Thursday, May 2, 2019

My Shopping Ban Rules

I may buy groceries from time to time at Target. 
But for the next year, I vow to keep these bulls-eye bags at bay. 


Five years ago in Canada, a random blogger named Cait Flanders decided to triple-dog-dare her over-shopped self to a year-long shopping ban. Then she wrote a fascinating book about her experience, which eventually found its way to me. And now I find myself driven to join her journey.

We truly are ripples in a pond, people. We affect each others' lives.

Although my overall goal for this project is mostly the same as Cait's - to experience the joy and freedom of buying only what I truly need - my list of essentials looks a bit different from hers:

* * * * *

What I am allowed to shop for:

Groceries.

Full permission to buy what I need but only if  1) I stay within my daily budget of $45 and 2) I use everything up before it spoils. I'm looking at you, refrigerator vegetable drawer.

Household supplies.

I enjoy running a well-stocked home, and that covers a lot of ground:

Picture hangers and Command strips.
Parchment paper and cupcake liners.
Vinegar, bleach, and ammonia.
Printer paper and envelopes
Every size of Sharpie imaginable.

I give myself permission to buy these things but only as needed. No stockpiling.

Wardrobe. 

By no stretch of the imagination could I be considered a wardrobe shopaholic. When it comes to clothes, shoes, and accessories, I tend to lean into a very few favorites until they are so worn and tired that my daughters literally beg me to buy something new.

This past month, I've been pushing myself to get rid of worn-out clothes and fill in the holes with new, well-considered purchases. For my summer wardrobe, I'm still looking for:

2-3 short dresses
1 long dress
1-2 print pants
1 handbag
2-3 yoga shorts
a pair of jeans

I give myself permission to buy these things, and a short list of winter must-haves to be determined later. But only when I find exactly what I want.

Personal Care.

This is not a problem area for me. As much as I love to stand in Target and smell all the body lotions, I usually only buy what I need. Full permission granted for replacing toiletries, cosmetics, and first aid supplies, as well as monthly pedicures (foot health matters) and twice-yearly trips to the hair salon.

Housewares.

End tables
Lamps
Plants and pots
Dishes
Candles and oils

I'm cutting back hard in this category. I can keep myself busy for at least a year by simply rearranging what I already have, and if I'm totally bored, I give myself permission to shop at thrift stores.

I also give myself permission to buy some much-needed new sheets and towels, and two new desk chairs for our office.

Home Improvement.

A handful of big-ticket items are still looming on our renovation to-do list :

baseboards on the first floor
laundry room counter, sink and floors
upstairs bathrooms
second half of the windows - we already replaced the first half.

We're slowly working our way through that list, with a separate financing source, so these projects are not affected by the shopping ban.

However, the first rule of home ownership will undoubtedly continue to function: Things break. As always, there will be small tasks popping up here and there: painting, replacing door knobs, replacing light fixtures, installing new shelves.

I give myself permission to tackle any home improvement project but only after a three-month decision-making time allowance for considering all my options.

Art Projects and DIY.

Yes. I give my creative impulses free reign with two important stipulations: I may buy new supplies only when 1) I have checked my inventories to be sure I don't already own what I need and 2) I commit to starting the project that same day. No more abandoned Michaels bags full of good intentions.

Sports Gear.

I'm thinking about buying a new pair of skis for next season. My current K2s have been kicking around for at least fifteen years, and bombed around Stevens Pass on easily 300 different days. They have served me well but the time has come for them to move on.

And possibly a pair of roller skates. Watch Sharp Objects. You'll understand why.

Both purchases are permitted, as long as I shop carefully and buy exactly what I need.

Gifts for Others.

Fully permitted as long as I stay within my budgets.

* * * * *

What I'm not allowed to shop for:

Books and Magazines.  Library only.

Notebooks. My weakness.

Electronics and Small Appliances. No new phone until my old one dies; and I promise to replace with an older model. And I think I might want a food processor but I'm going to make myself wait until the shopping ban is over. If I am sure I want it after a year has passed, I'll buy it.

Lazy meals. Skip the processed foods, fast-food drive-through, and unnecessary beverage runs.

Organizers. Just no. I can improvise with what I've already got.

* * * * *

My shopping ban will help me make a big step in the right direction of eliminating clutter and making more mindful decisions about how I spend my dollars.  But I'm serving up specific challenges to myself in those areas too.

Wednesday, May 1, 2019

Balanced Rocks

"There's a fine balance between preparation and seeing what happens naturally." 
-Timothee Chamalet

Rock balancing is the fine art of naturally balancing rocks upon each other without any adhesive or construction devices to keep them in place. 

The process strikes some people as free form art, others as a meditative journey. And there's also a camp who consider balanced rocks to be a blight on nature, an unholy disturbance of an otherwise wild landscape, a straight pain in the neck.

I can understand all three points of view.

But back in the summer of 2010, when my family and I encountered an explosion of these striking creations on the beach of Kalaloch, I was entirely charmed. Here are my photos - along with the original captions - of the balanced rocks we saw on that trip. 


^ I went on my annual camping trip to Kalaloch Beach, on the coast of the Pacific Ocean. It's a lovely wild place...probably my favorite place on earth.

But this year, when I got to the beach I found these...rock towers. Someone...or several someones...had built them here and there, all over the beach. I found them fascinating. 


^ The biggest stones you see here are bigger than my hand...the tiny ones are like a small coin. Look at how they are tucked into the little hiding places on this beach log. So cool.


^ Someone spent a LOT of time making all these. I built some myself and it is not so easy. 


^ These are the tallest ones I found. So great!


^ Top view, looking down. I feel like a giant looking down on a forest of stone trees. 


^ We built these.


^ Ranger had to be very careful not to knock them over with his leash. 


^ I wasn't the only one taking pics of them. Seemed like every person who walked by with a camera stopped to capture them too. 


^ When Ranger took his nap, we built a tiny tower on his head. 


^ Wet, sandy., tired, happy dog. 


^ This one was my favorite. I loved how the big stone is balanced on the tip of this log. I took so many pics of it!


^ See what I mean?


^ Beneath my favorite tower lies this cluster of mini towers, tucked into the crevice of this tree. 


^ Aren't they so cute??


I took way more pics of these than I posted to this album. Aren't you glad I edited??!!


^ I am harnessing the power of the sun.


^ Fully loaded. 


^ Ranger and me.


^ 'The cool air off the Pacific fills the beach with mist. 


^ Again with the towers!


^ Sun sinking lower, sliding behind the clouds along the horizon. 


Gone!

* * * * *

My family and I go to Kalaloch a lot. Here are stories from our trips over the years:

2019

2018 

2017 

2015

2014