Cathy Zielske's Blog

Honoring the sadness

For those of us documenting daily life, the question can arise on how to cover tragedy on our pages and in our albums. I know this was something I looked at with a heavy heart during the Newtown tragedy. Again, for the Boston Marathon bombings. And now for Oklahoma.

If there's one thing I am connecting to lately, it's that life is completely unpredictable. There is joy. And there is sadness. It's all part of what we signed on for, whether we like it or not.

We can withdraw from it. We can outraged by it. We can quickly brush by it on our way back to normal. Or we can observe it—head on—and let it in, and let it change us. Let it change how we live and breathe.

I was driving by my neighborhood elementary school yesterday, saw the kids out on the playground and was overcome with grief. I've never been much good at blocking stuff out—stuff like bombings, and shootings, and destructive acts of nature—but only recently have I begun to really embrace sadness and let it in, and let it begin to change me.

Let it become a part of me.

Yes, that's therapy talking. I've paid a lot of money to learn about all the ways I've tried to block and control any pain of any kind in my life. 

I've paid some immense prices for trying to acquire a type of control that doesn't even exist.

 

Life will always remind us who is in charge. Some of us pray and some of us hope—but we are often reminded that the unexpected is part of, well, life.

As I continued past the school yesterday, I was thinking of the lyric from a song that I always recall during any time of sadness, The Night I Heard Caruso Sing by Everything But The Girl. 

…it's time to hold your loved ones, while the chains are loose, and the world runs wild.

I created a card for my Project Life album. I guess I wanted some way to remember this feeling of how miraculous this whole thing is—this life I live—while also honoring the sadness.

Download CZ_QuoteCard

File is in PDF, PNG and layered PSD. 

Thanks for reading today.

 

 

It's not G-rated. It is, however, free. And who doesn't like free?

The Designer Digitals Quarterly Sale kicks off tomorrow and runs through May 15th. As I was working on some new products for the store, I was typing remember this but transposed the letters in this, resulting in the image you see above.

It just made me smile.

As a committed and passionate keeper of memories, this is exactly what I set out to do every time I scrapbook.

Remember sh#t.

I don't swear much on this blog. Sure, a few words will seep in from time to time (see previous paragraph). If I were being truly authentic, I would swear a great deal more. It's just part of how I choose to talk in my personal life. I have zero issues with swears as long as they aren't used to denigrate or hurt people. I do not believe I denigrate myself by using them, either. Maybe it's because I grew up in a house where for a long time, I thought "Jesus Christ" was my part of my full name. Maybe it's because I hung out with kids who talked that way. Whatever the case, it's a choice I made and continue to make for myself.

And sometimes, swearing is funny. In fact, every time my husband swears, hilarity ensues.

But I digress…

I shared this image on my Facebook page, and many of you said, "I'd buy that!" 

But to kick off the quarterly sale, the least I can do is give you the PNG for free.

So please, by all means, enjoy.

Download CZ_remembersh

Note: PNGs can be used in Photoshop, Photoshop Elements and even placed into Word. To learn more about working with PNG files, I have a host of videos you can look through to learn more.

 

The change is upon me

Spring arrived last week and things are finally starting to come alive again in St. Paul.

I am not complaining. I am a fan of chilly nights, soul-warming soups and big, puffy slippers.

I actually live in dread of the heat.

Maybe it's not so much of a dread. Weather is part of life. Temperatures rise, temperatures fall. I understand this.

But my own internal thermostat is so wacked out these days that I do not look to the forthcoming hazy days of summer with glee and anticipation.

Instead, I'm desperately trying to figure out how to replace the crank out windows in my sauna office so I can purchase a small window unit this year to provide a bit of respite from the notoriously nasty days of Minnesota summer. 

My office gets hot first. Southern exposed windows. Zero cross breezes. Computer equipment buzzing. Sure, it's great in the winter. It probably even saves on our heating bill overall. But even on a glorious spring day, 75 outside can quickly mean 85 inside. 85 leads to 90 and 90 leads to a fussy, sweaty designer in perimenopause.

True, we have central air, but in a house built in 1918, let's just say the circulation to the upper floor is less than optimal. It doesn't work at all in the office.

But maybe it's not just the change of life that is to blame.

Maybe it's the dyed-in-the-wool Washingtonian in me. I was bred for the damp and the cool. I was designed for that Pacific Northwest climate. I was supposed to love smoked salmon, Starbucks and Nirvana, things that undeniably go better with 55 or fewer degrees.

 

When I started this blog, originally in 2005, I never envisioned that one day I'd be trying to figure out what to write about that didn't involve weather, hot flashes, therapy and weight loss.

I remember just writing about aliens and Johnny Depp or whatever else tickled my fancy.

When no one reads you, there's definitely a sense of freedom.

It's different now. I have readers. I have sponsors. I need to keep the content a comin'.

Maybe it's that change of season, change of life thing at work. When things are physically in flux, adjustments are needed. Figuring out the best response takes thought and energy.

I just wanted to let you know that if I'm not posting a ton right now, save for my Project Life stuff, it's not for lack of trying.

It's for lack of knowing what it is that I really want to say.

Sometimes, working on getting your ducks in a row doesn't always translate to the best blogging.

Or, maybe it translates to the best blogging ever.

I'll keep you posted on what I find out.

 

 

When the zombie apocalypse arrives, I know who I'm following

I'm a huge fan of AMC's The Walking Dead. For three seasons now, me, Cole and Aidan (Dan has yet to come around on Zombie-themed television) have been glued to the challenges and tragedies of Sheriff Rick & Co. It's bleak. It's heart wrenching. It's gory. 

And it also contains total hotness in the form of one dirty hillbilly who goes by the name of Daryl Dixon.

I'll be honest: it really wasn't until Season 3 when it hit me just how hot Daryl was. Me and a whole gaggle of adult women who tune in every week. 

In short, if the zombies come a-knockin', he's your man, ladies.

While looking for images of Daryl yesterday (yes, I spend my time very wisely) I came across several memes and thought: what would happen if Daryl Dixon met up with scrapbooking?

With that in mind, I present my results.

Feel free to share. I'm sure they'll take off in the crafting community. No, really. I feel it.

 

Mrs. Brightside

I love winter.

Some people don't. Some people curse it, condemn it, pray for its timely demise.

But not me.

I like to be cold much more so than being hot. I'm a hot house flower of sorts. One that does much better not actually being in a hot house.

Maybe an ice fishing house with a small heater is more my style, save for not being real big into ice fishing. 

One of the real bonuses of living in Minnesota during the winter at age 46 is that when your hormones start stoking the internal metabolic flames, you can just step outside and ahhhhhh… instant relief.

Of course, this isn't practical at 2:30 a.m., but I'm fortunate to live with a man who keeps the thermostat dialed way down low between the hours of Midnight and 6 a.m.

It's funny. I used to fight with him over how cold the house was at night. Back in my 30s. Of course, back then I would have picked a fight with him over his shoelace being untied. Still… time has shown me there was a larger plan at work: he was planning for my change of life all along.

I told my therapist about this, the idea of being grateful for winter and how it is a real plus for my perimenopause self to which she reminded me it wasn't too long ago where I complained to her that Minnesota was never a place I would have chosen to live.

Progress.

It's simply a matter of a shifting perspective, and I'm not just talking about some Pollyanna way of looking at the world, but rather, what am I grateful for instead of what I'm lacking for.

Are there things you've found a new perspective on over the years? If so, by all means, share.

 

Things to do when your computer dies

On Saturday, something that I think I knew deep down in my tech-lovin' gut was coming, happened. My computer went to gray screen and there it remained.

Now before you all feel too sorry for me, let me be clear: I am still able to access the Internet. Thank God!

We have three laptops, one iPad, and three iPhones in this house. Granted, none of these devices contains my personal content. I mean, see that photo of the little plastic hangers? I had to open that on Cole's laptop…and use NO filters on it whatsover! I don't even have a full version of Photoshop on his computer. Just Elements 8. Can you even believe that?

I know what you're thinking: the horror!

As I wait for word from the Apple Store, I wanted to share a few things with you.

1. Yesterday, while driving to said store, I was explaining to Aidan that honestly, this hard drive death couldn't have happened at more fortuitous time, as I had just uploaded some very important class content to Big Picture Classes the night before. As I'm going on, waxing all positive, she responds by saying: "Wow, Mom, it's times like this when I really think all that therapy you've been doing is working." Nice.

2. When your work schedule is suddenly cleared out for you, courtesy of a big, gray screen, it's amazing how you realized just how trashed your house has become. Laundry? What? I have to do that EVERY week?

3. Without work, you can undertake long overdue projects that make you realize that time is a bullet train. Case in point: Cole and Dan went up to the cabin this weekend while the girls stayed home. With Cole out of his room for a few days, I decided it was time to replace all of his kid hangers with adult ones. His shirts and pants kept falling off of them. Sigh. He's not a toddler anymore people. He starts middle school tomorrow. That noise you hear? My uterus just contracted for one last memorable time.

4. I can't do Project Life this week. Where is the humanity in that?

Hopefully, my computer will only need a new hard drive. We are crossing our fingers on this because a new computer, especially the one that I use for my work, is not in the budget right now.

Until then, I'll guess I'll slog it out by logging into my email on my son's laptop, or my iPad, or my iPhone.

I really have become a poster child for First World Problems, haven't I?

Somehow, I feel this video captures the general malaise that I'm certain will set in the longer I am without my beloved tower of power.

 

Eh bien, je suis toujours ici.

Adieu, sweet internal 1.5 TB drive. Adieu.

NOTE: To all of you who do not currently have a back up system, it might be time to consider one. Although my computer is on its way to meet its maker (literally, up to Heaven where it will reunite with Steve Jobs), I have been running a double back up system and all of my content—files, photos, and music—are ready and waiting to be installed onto the new drive. If I didn't have this back up in place, I would be posting to tell you I was leaving my life to join a traveling circus. That is all.

 

Just keep paddling

I am feeling overwhelmed right now in my work life.

Now let me be clear:  this ain't no woe-is-me, I-can't-do-this kind of overwhelmed. This is simply having too many deadlines in too short of a time span and wishing like hell that I could have spread this work out over the summer.

But I can't. I have to git er done, as they say.

I used to like to curl up in a ball and feel sorry for myself when major deadlines loomed, or when it seemed I'd bitten off more than I could chew.

I don't like that old behavior much at all.

Today, I'm plodding through. Doing what needs to be done and knowing there is an end in sight.

Afterall, that's what a deadline is for.

It's funny, because we took a few days off to go up and relax up at our family's cabin over the weekend. Very much needed for both me and Dan even though we knew it'd put us both back this week.

Part of me wants to be back in that kayak right about now.

And part of me knows it's just life.

What do you do when the tasks at hand threaten to overwhelm?

Here's one thing I do: read blog comments wherein people tell me how they like to cope with stress.

Amen.

 

Hot and bothered

Disclaimer: If you are a man, or a woman under, oh, about 38, or maybe someone who is squeamish about the middle aged female experience, this post is not for you.

Is it hot in here or is it just me?

Holy sweat balls, people, it's not just me, is it? Or is it?

So here's my little middle aged story of the week: a few years ago, I went on a low dose birth control pill to help with irregular special monthly visitors. The results were good. Fewer days in, ahem, the process, and fewer cramps.

I don't need to be on any birth control at this time in my life. Dan took care of that issue 6 years ago. (Thank you, honey! So appreciate you!) But after I met with a nutritionist back in May, she strongly urged me to stop taking the Pill if I didn't need it. She said I should see where I'm at naturally. I said, "Why not?"

Four weeks after stopping the pill the hot flashes started.

Let me describe them: instaneously, I'm super heated from head to toe and it lasts for, oh… maybe three minutes or so. And this now happens up to 8 times a day.

Doesn't really matter what I'm doing. I could be running, or sitting, making dinner or settling into bed for a crappy night's sleep.

And while I am thankful for reaching this age (and I truly am) and I realize that this is just part of life (I get this, I really do), I am still allowed to say that part of this new experience sucks total and complete ass.

I mean seriously.

So I guess today, I'm wondering about all of this. I have checked in with Dr. Google and found the following things can affect the issue:

• coffee
• wine
• sugar

Hmmm. Let's see… as an ex-smoker, there is a mentality that I carry with me and it goes something like this: you can take my coffee away when you pry my mug from my cold, dead hand. Granted, it's the caffeine they say can trigger the hot flashes, and my coffee is made from a half caf/half decaf custom bean blend, but still… a former addict needs some vice, doesn't she?

The wine? Well, honestly, that's just a new thing I'm trying out this summer. Not a requirement at all. I can deal with that one.

But the sugar? Well, why not just say my nemesis continues to bite me in the tushka.

And then there's this: I'm 46. Is this too young to be having this issue already? Does this mean by the time I'm 65 I will be hunched over an immovable?

I know you're not shy about weighing in ladies, so weigh away.

This perimenopausal mama needs some input.

And more ice packs. Thank you.

 

 

Monday musings

Hello there, Monday. Fancy meeting you here.

Aidan, who left on Saturday for a week-long theater camp program in Southern Minnesota, took this extreme close up while making cupcakes last week, using my new 50mm Canon Macro lens. Nice work, Zielsk!

It's going to be hella hot week in the upper Midwest. They say it could reach 100 by Wednesday. For this dyed-in-the-wool Pacific Northwest girl, temps like that make exactly zero sense to me.

Make no mistake, I will stay cool. I have central air in my 94-year-old house and I intend to use it.

Other than trying to be productive while one of my children has flown the coop, I have started trying to create a ritual in the morning of going out onto my front porch and reading something inspirational while having my morning coffee.

Yes, the workout is next on the list, followed closely by work to be done to continue earning a stay-at-home living, but I'm trying to invest a bit more into the soul side of things. I figure after doing (and continuing) therapy for two-plus years, maybe I should branch out a bit and find more food for the heart and mind.

Having recently read The Gifts of Imperfection, I feel hungry for more of the same. Reading author Brené Brown's blog led me to find a book by Susannah Conway. That book is This I Know. It arrived early last week and I've been savoring it each morning, reading a bit here and there, trying to soak it in and let it fill me up.

It's made me want to head out and pick up a journal and start writing a bit more about my inner life and all of the stuff she is making me think about.

What have you been reading for inspiration? And beyond that, do you have any small and sacred rituals or spaces you create for yourself to allow time for inspiration and renewal? 

By all means, do share.

My Hometown

Last week a business meeting took me all the way to Seattle, the city that I love and the city in which I was born. It's been over three years since I was last in Washington, so I tacked on a few days in order to spend it in my true hometown, Everett. My best friend, Molly, still lives there where she's married and raising her two adorable and precocious daughters, Anne and Aida.

There is something about the air there. It smells different. Maybe it's because you can get close to the water and smell the salt in the air. Or maybe it's all those pine trees and all that moss and all that rain. It's a verdant land, that Pacific Northwest.

After my visit with Molly, I headed to Seattle for a meeting with the folks from Big Picture Classes.

Lucky for me, that meant getting to hang out with Ali and Stacy and my new friend, Tracey.

We stopped at Ivar's on the Pier for a fish and chips snack.

We headed off to the Space Needle for a tasty dinner with a 360-degree very slowly rotating view.

We left Seattle to head over to Carnation where Stacy's parents live and held our meeting on Saturday morning before all boarding planes to our respective homes.

I always get a bit nostalgic when I'm home for any length of time. Though I wouldn't trade the path of my life for anything, I still wonder what it would be like to live in the town I'm from.

This is a picture of Silver Lake. I spent every summer there, trying in vain for that Washington tan, swimming in the lake, and probably doing a few things I ought to not have been doing. So many memories wash over me just looking at this Instagram shot.

A song came to mind, a song called "Hometown" by the insanely underrated Joe Jackson. If you're a fan, you'll know it. If not, here's a little taste of the lyric:

Hometown by Joe Jackson

Of all the stupid things I could have thought
This was the worst
I started to believe
That I was born at seventeen
And all the stupid things
The letters and the broken verse
Stayed hidden at the bottom of the drawer
They'd always been
And now I plough through piles
Of bills, receipts and credit cards
And tickets and the Daily News
And sometimes I just . . .

Wanna go back to my home town
Though I know it'll never be the same
Back to my home town
'Cause it's been so long
And I'm wondering if it's still there...

For anyone who somehow became separated from the place in which you grew up, it might resonate with you. In fact, sometimes this song breaks my heart in the best of ways.

 

Here's to where you're from.