Crackin' dem Crackers

For as long as I can remember, I've had a little love of Nutcrackers.  I think it all stems to growing up in Germany - the land of the Nutcrackers.

On one of my parents' visits to Utah, my mom and I wandered around some quilt and fabric stores.  Since it was near the holidays, a lot of the quilts hanging around were of snowmen, bells, trees, and santas.  In the far back of a little shop, I saw the most adorable Nutcracker quilt.  I oooed and awwed over it for awhile until my mom joined me and said "we can make that, if you want.  We can create that pattern.  Look at the faces and get an idea of how they're put together."  Those instructions from my mom are some that I'm so used to hearing.  My mom can make anything, just by looking at it.  I truly mean ANYTHING - food, clothes, crafts, ANYTHING.  My task always was, to learn that skill by analyzing to see how I can recreate them.  I took pictures and critiqued the stitches on the Nutcracker eyes, but the idea of making my own quilt from start to finish just plain intimidated me.  

I kept the Nutcrackers in the forefront of the back of my mind, with no sight of starting it any time soon.  My mom wouldn't be in town much longer, and I knew that I would NOT be starting such a project without a mentor - that's disaster waiting to happen.  

Then, came the day before I'd get to go home for Christmas.  My mom called to say that my aunt had the Nutcracker pattern I'd been oogling months before.  I got excited!  As soon as I got home, I was ready to get going.  Overall, it took me 3 days to start and finish my first real wall-hanging quilt.  

Mom took me to this little fabric store in Chambersburg.  We spent a good couple hours browsing.  I knew I wanted a non-Christmas colored quilt so that broadened my options.  One of the first bolts I pulled was this fantastic paisley print in what I call "India colors".  (Sidenote - I've also been almost obsessed with India for most of my childhood).  That was the springboard of inspiration, followed by a really fun "hair printed" fabric for, what else, the hair.  Mom has hundreds of different scraps and pieces of fabric so we only needed to get the larger pieces or patterns I couldn't live without.  After gathering all the fabrics and making the pattern pieces, I was aching to start.  Here's the stash:

As soon as all the pieces were cut out, I laid them out.  Each Nutcracker HAD to have their own personality.  That was my favorite part!  All the pieces laid out and ready to press.  In my limited quilting experience I've learned that Fusible is the best creation ever.  You just iron it to your fabric, cut it out, and iron it down.  Then all you have to do is sew around it.  The Fusible glues the pieces together, and...makes life so easy.  Here, the noses were just ironed down, and I'm ready to get sewing.  Couldn't decide which was my favorite face.  Can you?

By the time I'd blanket-stitched around all of them, I still didn't have a favorite, but I was tired - - 2am.  If my eyes hadn't been burning...and my mentor-mom hadn't already gone to bed, I'd have been able to keep going.  Oh well, day 2.  My mom has stuff for all craft projects imaginable - hence my creative/thrifty nature - so, of course, she'd have tiny black beads for the eyes.  The original quilt had fabric eyes, but that just wouldn't do for a "Ladies Lind craft project".  

Once I was this far, there isn't much visible progress, so I didn't photograph.  BUT, I will give you the rundown.

After adding the borders and prepping the backing, the tricky task was to quilt the quilt.  While I was on my mission, my mom got a 15ft long-arm quilting machine.  This monstrous piece of sewing equipment came in handy.  I'd never used such a thing before, but my mom told me, then showed me, and finally set me loose.  I stayed up uber late working, because I was having so much fun.  My mom was so impressed that she wants me to quilt her projects from now on.

The quilting on the quilt

My favorite block

Finished project

Tradition Passed and Passed

raised and ready to bake

HOMEMADE rolls have always been the staple for all Lind holidays/special occasions. Mom always made them, while we drooled, eagerly awaiting the soft goodness.  Those rolls are one of the most prominent memories I have...and my favorite too.  Aside from those delicious clouds of (insert your own word here), hard-crust European bread is one of the only breads I enjoy.  This year, the roll-torch was passed to me.  I was terrified by such an overwhelming task of living up the expectations of perfection in EVERY SINGLE BATCH.  I've made them for roommates and friends, but never dared for my family - too much pressure to follow the expertise of mom and grandma.  BUT, they requested and trusted me anyway.  I guess they're trying to observe my transformation to being a dream-making mom.  I know the recipe by heart, but with all the stress of having two experts' eyes watching every knead, I still needed the scarp of ancient paper.  The rolls turned out "exactly like mom's" (as everyone gleefully exclaimed through crumb-encrusted lips).  Needless to say, they were scarfed down at dinner...and sneaked off before.  Then late that night, when Baby Brother came back from spending the day in Salt Lake, he and cousin J polished off the last 9 without anyone knowing.  When the rest of us awoke, we were devastated to discover we'd have to endure a roll-less breakfast (we were ALL counting on having at least one in the morning).  Grandpa demanded more so I spent the afternoon baking, and literally hiding them throughout the kitchen/cupboards in separate batches, should one be discovered...just like mom and grandma have done for years.

How to Move Forward

The worst part about the past is dwelling on it. And the worst about dwelling on it is, it seems to jinx us and reoccur in our future, even though we’re trying really hard to avoid it.  As though to teach us a different lesson, or even reemphasize what we should've learned the first time, the ugly head of the past shows up and knocks us back down.

I've made the mistake of giving too much in my relationships - with friends, guys, family, even myself.  Sacrificing me, in order to promote them.  I put everything I am on the table for them to peruse, only to find that the most delicate and important parts are brushed aside or overlooked.  I do everything I can to make sure the other person is taken care of and happy.  Their needs always come first, no matter what I must give up.  In so doing, I forget my own needs.  I’m guilty of overcompensating, as a way to encourage others to stick around. I guess it comes down to my belief that if I am alone forever, it is because I didn't do enough.  I was never the first picked on the playground, never the first to have a partner in projects, never the one asked to dance, never the one excitedly chosen for games, and never the girl any guy would even consider.  I was just the shoulder to cry on, the one on the side who observes, gives advice, listens for countless hours, helps get ready, but the one that silently aches for someone to find me.

But the most destroying thing I did to myself was stay around a bunch of damaging people, and convince myself that doing so was the key to being accepted, the key to happiness, the key to success for my heart.  While I was doing everything for them, I let them control every aspect of the relationship, just so they’d stick around. In order for the other person to shine, I'd muffle my talents.  I'd give up my own time, to make them smile.  It’s a damaging cycle to fall in...and I do it every time.

I didn't have anyone close enough to me to sit down with me, lovingly show me my true worth, and work with me so I'd want to shine - want to be noticed.  I never had anyone help me figure out what was really going on, and help me work towards what was better - more worthwhile, and overall, what I desperately needed.  I thought I was doing it right, thought I was making it so people would see me as worth being noticed.  Except, I wasn't the only friend in the equation, not the only girl on the bargaining table.  This led to my feeling that I was not good enough for anyone, which then leads to another path of overcompensation to prove I AM worthwhile.

Despite the unbalanced nature of my childhood (because I felt I was doing the best I could at being a friend) it wasn't until very recently that can I see my relationships through untainted lenses. When I came to college, leaving everyone and everything I ever knew, I was blessed with true friends - best friends.  My trust and love grew, and I learned how important it is to be honest with myself, and allow people to love me and be my foundation.  I began to open the doors of my deepest feelings, unlocking the painful past, and even encouraging those closest to me to come in and pick up the broken pieces.

Now, those friends approach me and state the facts of my failing relationships, but for some reason I just cannot get on that same page.  I just cannot allow myself to feel special.  That is the part of the story that I just can't let go of.

To me, I'm still the second best, still the one left out, still the one they'll never choose, still the one who doesn't quite fit the bill.  The worst thing I've done to myself, is compare myself to others. In every friendship, I've compared myself to someone they have spent more time with, dated, commented on, or admired.  It's emotionally consuming and draining, but it's human nature, isn't it? So how can I fight that? In a perfect world, I would recognize my true worth and exude confidence. I would see myself as great, and know that anyone who doesn't think so, is not worth my time.  In this world, in my reality, that hasn't happened yet. There are good days when I feel awesome, but I’m not 100% awesome all the time. Feeling and accepting that I'm the duckling that doesn't match is a confidence-sucking state.  It didn't take me one day to get to this point of self-doubt, so it'll take time to build myself up.  Most days, I climb up, but then just one thought, one word of discouragement, one glance over the shoulder, and I slip further down than where I started.

I have to believe everything happens for a reason, and that what happens in life affects who you will be.  I also believe that who you allow to influence your heart, also provides the greatest indicator of how you continue to grow.  So, I sometimes have to reflect on the bad, and realize that it has made me a better person for having survived. And then, I think how thankful I am that my life has gone the way it has, and where I am today. I couldn't imagine myself surrounded by anyone else.

Thoughts

You have the hair of a goddess. It has to be a German goddess....like...like Brumhilda!

My coworkers could be family

Two of the crew left the MTC so we decided to throw a party...a surprise party!!  B Skid was the only male in on the surprise.  He arranged for them to have a "boys' night" where we'd all be waiting.  He has the hardest time keeping secrets so we worried, just a little, that our cover would be blown.  Day of, no sign of a leak!  Ladies arrived and made this wonderful banner.  As they walked in J Full and J Am were so surprised.  We're going to miss them!

 

Kismet or Curve-ball

I've always been one of those people who find it hard to believe in anything that I can't see, feel, or know for sure.  I believe in people, in love, and in friendships, but not in fate or some random power making out my destiny.  But, lately, something has started to shift in me.  The choices I've been faced with, the completely unexpected route my life has taken, got me thinking.  Every once in a while I find myself thinking "How did I get here?"  I know how I got here, it all makes perfect sense, yet, it doesn't make sense at all.  Do you know what I mean?  I'm constantly surprised by the way my life has panned out, and I can't even imagine what lies ahead.

People often say if you have a clear vision of your future and work toward it, you will eventually get there.  And I believe in visions, in goals, and especially in dreams that take us further.  But, what I've come to realize is that we don't know how to create that vision, because we can't possibly see the curve-balls life has in store for us.  When I think back on my dream and vision that I had 5 years ago for my present day, I can only laugh, because there is not one single thing from that vision that has come true.  Except me still being alive.  But, I'm not complaining.  My life now is actually better than I envisioned.  It's completely different, but so much more fulfilling.

I'll still be dreaming and visioning my future, but I'm starting to happily welcome those curve-balls, because they often take me to a better place.  Even if it is through a challenging time.  I know that a beautiful life is waiting for me on the other side.  Life is good.