The Joy of Journaling

In addition to blogging and the Journal Project I’ve done with my Grandmother, I also keep a pretty regular written journal myself. It’s always a big day when I get to start a new journal, and today I started journal #8 with a crisp new title page to write the start date on, and attempt some flourish at writing my name.

I haven’t always been a habitual Journal keeper. I started when I was 12 years old, and though I often wrote daily, there are gaps here and there of a month, and occasionally a year.   The early journals have fun details like crazy day,

A description of my mom’s Corelle dishes from Thanksgiving,

My bedroom floorplan and my sister’s costume for a school play.

 

An addition from a few years ago was the crossed out college shopping list from my oldest daughter’s trip to BYU.

One book from the early 90’s included this sketch of Santa.

Sometimes I stick things in there that are just plain odd, like this score sheet from a game Jordan and I played. Her score became the king, and mine was the queen. The game was played on March 15 and across the bottom it reads “Beware the ides of March”

Do I write this for posterity? Oh, I hope not. I don’t know. It is so full of my fears, inadequacies and complaints. But it also contains my faith, my testimony, and many musings on my gratitude to God. Often I get out my journal and write just to ‘process my thoughts’ and get things out of my system.

On the other hand, how wonderful it would be to have a hand written record of the day to day life of one of my great grandmothers.

I don’t know what will become of it. I am not a real writer. But I do feel that journal writing is very important for everyone. Everyone will benefit from keeping a journal, and it’s never too late to start.

I hope I will fill many more books to come!

-Lynnae

Grandma’s Memory Book

  I wanted to put up some pictures of my finished Memory Book that I made for my Grandma (I’ve blurred out her full name for privacy reasons). I’m really happy about how it turned out and I think its one of the best gifts I’ve ever given. I gave it to her when I was in Utah in September (I couldn’t wait till December), and I hear that she loves to show it to her visitors. That is exactly what I wanted, an easy way she could show pictures to friends and little great grandchildren without having do dig out boxes or precious originals.

Last summer we visited Grandma and scanned over 100 pictures. Not only do we now have a digital copy to preserve, but I was able to print some off on photo paper and make an album. I wanted it to be an old style paper album so I used a black sketchbook with a metal ring binding. I didn’t want any plastic over the pictures, and they were copies, so I thought that would be OK. I am so glad I did it that way too, because as soon as she opened it up she touched the pictures with her hands and just said “Oh!”

I used a few Graphic pieces from The Graphics Fairy’s excellent collection, to balance out the pages. I also left a few empty spots for new pictures we may want to add. There’s a lot of photographs we didn’t get to at her house.

I try to call my Grandma once a week, to ask her about the past and record the conversation onto the computer. If you’d like to read more of what I’ve written about this project, choose ‘Linnea’ from the labels on my sidebar.

-Lynnae

Splintered

Lately the central focus of my life has been taking my oldest daughter off to college. We drove across several states, stayed in my parents house, and were inundated with activities for parents of Freshmen, though it was nothing compared to her freshman orientation activities. We spent a record six hours shopping in three different Wal-Marts, and still had to hit a Target after that, for food and dorm supplies, averaging almost a hundred dollars an hour. But what is money compared to the feelings… the feeling of leaving her that first night, to stay in her dorm, and hugging her briefly in the morning 5 days later as we left for the road trip back home without her.
Every time we drove away from campus scenes from her early childhood flashed across my mind. I see snippets of pictures and home movies and hazy images of pale wispy hair swirling in sunbeams. Oh, that’s when it’s really tough.
There were also many great moments of having that “You know, she’s going to do all right!” feeling. And special moments that would confirm to me that she was on the right course. Who can argue with something like that?
When I was in college, a ‘couple’ of years ago, I phoned my parents less than once a month. It cost a fortune. I had to wait in line for the pay phone, and then, because it was cheaper for them to place the call, I would call the operator, place a person to person call for someone who wouldn’t be at the house, and my folks would deny the call. This was our code, then I would wait for them to call me back. Our main communication was letters. Saying this now makes it seem like it was 50 or a hundred years ago. But really, so much has changed.
After the first few days I told my daughter she didn’t have to call me every day. We have e-mailed each other and made comments on each other’s facebook, But yesterday I was dying to hear he voice and she called last night. She told my husband “Well, Mom said not to call every day.” So I told her she could call as much as she wanted. I didn’t want to burden her or make her feel she had to “check in”, but it’s hard to find that comfortable routine still.
As for the rest of my life……
My main problem now is that I want to be more structured, and I want to be more creative. Let me explain and we’ll see if the two can’t go hand in hand.
Our home routines have all but disappeared over the summer, and I start to feel like my house, and my brain, is falling apart. I have learned that I can’t be creative when I’m stressed out, and that my spirit craves a certain level of organization. So since school has been in I make an effort to get through my daily routines, checking things off as I do them. I’m contemplating projects, but I actually bought on of those books that is supposed to help you flex your creativity, and maybe I’ll go in to that more next time. I have plenty of ideas, but need some fresh ways of thinking.
I have a new project in mind. I’m going to flip a house. Well, actually I didn’t buy a house, and I’m not going to sell it when I’m done. The house in mind is a two-story six room circa 1975 dollhouse that my father made for me. It was white with a slanty roof and columned porch. Very simple, basic design. On ‘Special Days’ I spent with my mom we would glue in flooring or use wrapping paper as wallpaper. I would save my money for miniature furniture that fit the six inch ‘dawn dolls’ that we played with. My sister had an identical house, and later a younger sister got her own dollhouse with a similar design. Often we would slide them all together to make one giant house. Many happy hours of my childhood were spent cross legged in front of that house. I played and decorated often, even long after I would have felt comfortable letting my friends know I still played with dolls.
When I got married my hubby convinced me to leave it home, and I really didn’t want to drag it all around the world with me. So I told my mom to just let my younger siblings have it. At some point I came home to see that a sister had taken it and redecorated the rooms and added shingles and shutters. I think it spent some time at her house before being brought back to Mom and Dad’s.
Last spring my mom asked if I wanted it again. This time I most certainly did, but I couldn’t take it back with me on the plane, and it would be a fortune to ship it. So I put a note on it where it was stored. “My dollhouse, do not remove. I will get it soon.”
After unloading the van of my college daughter’s belongings, I had room to take the dollhouse back home with us. My hubby still didn’t want it around, but after 20 years of marriage…. The house was coming home with us. I mentioned to my mom that I had room for it, and she casually said “I haven’t seen it around, I think the guys might have tossed it.”
I acted calm, but the moment I had a break in the conversation I casually turned down the stairs, then ran to where the dollhouse was, still sitting with the note the way I had left it. Whew!
So now the house is here and I’m planning to fix it up with a bit of Regency- Jane Austen Flair. The outside is to be based on Longbourne from the BBC A&E P&P. The two top rooms will be Fanny’s little white attic and the East room from Mansfield Park (greatly simplified of course). The downstairs will have some sort of parlor and dining room set up. (Small summer breakfast room maybe?) The other two will be bedrooms but I haven’t yet decided what to theme them after. The bedroom with the imposing chest from Northanger Abbey? Or maybe Jane’s own room from Chawton Cottage. One thing you can be sure of is that at my pace I have plenty of time to decide.
My last topic has to do with journaling. And blogging. And keeping a food journal, a workout log, sketchbooks, and scrapbooks. Every time I feel like I’m doing poorly at one it is because I have been focusing on another. I’ve got to ‘get it together’ as they say. My sisters and their Sister’s Running Club (SRC) inspired me when I was at home, to keep a workout log. I went and looked at running logs at the book store today, but I ended up not getting one. I already keep a food journal because of weight watchers, and I use the 12 week planner. But it occurred to me that each week there are a few note pages I don’t use, so I can make my own work out log on the computer and then just glue them in there when I get a new book. I’ve been sidelined with Plantar Fasciitis for a few weeks, and now I’m working out again and super excited. So I can combine the food and workout books. Then I decided that I would print out these blog entries and tape them into their appropriate spot in my written journal. My DH would be rolling his eyes right now. But I’m a bit of an old fashioned girl and worry about computer backups, even though he has an awesome back up system. I just feel like I want it together. Hey, I may even staple in pages from my sketchbook. I just feel like none of these reflections of me on their own reflect the whole me. Does that make any sense? That is why I’m ‘splintered’ and that is my solution.
I’ll keep you posted!