Not My Kitchen

The friends I live with have done some alterations to their kitchen recently. Not remodelling or anything, but some adjustments. It started when they got a fridge-freezer, to replace their under-the-counter fridge that had seen better days. Doing this necessitated removing the small section of counter that had covered the smaller fridge, plus a small upper cupboard. Which necessitated finding new homes for the things that had been in that cupboard. Which necessitated a bit of condensing and re-arranging of items in other cupboards.

The piece of counter that was removed, had been the most-used piece of counter for food prep, and the rest of the counters were crowded. So, this past weekend, when I was at my Mum's, they rearranged the entire most of the kitchen, moving items into different cupboards, throwing some things out and moving the appliances.

The freed-up counter space looks marvelous! But... from my perspective (and let me be clear, it is only my perspective)... it still doesn't work. The cupboards that didn't get rearranged, in my opinion, should have been. Personally, it seems like half the kitchen now works really well, and the other half... still needs improving.

I made a couple of small changes -- they got changed back. This happened a couple of times over, until we both knew it was deliberate. Then I had to take a step back and say to myself, It's not my kitchen. Let it go. We could have had a passive-aggressive power-struggle over where they go, but what would be the point? It's not my kitchen.

But I don't want to do the same thing with Brenda. I want to be able to move things, and honestly, I want to be able to do it without having to ask.

I think Pete and I are both self-aware enough to be able to say "what is your reason for wanting to do it this way?" so that even if we do fight about it, we're fighting about the real issues not the veneer. Brenda and Pete and I have had the chat about moving things, so I know I'm worrying for nothing, but still.

Feeling nervous

Pete and I had a long chat today, mostly about gift lists. I think they're the height of bad manners and will do pretty much ... a lot of stuff ... not to have one. I don't want my wedding to have an "entrance fee". That is kinda how I see it.

Pete can see my point, but not as strongly as I see it. He can also see Brenda's point -- she's (by the sound of it) driving the "you need a gift list" van pretty heavily. I'm going to talk about that with her.

But, I'm nervous.

This is the first time, I think, we've had a major difference of opinion.

Partly it's cultural, perhaps. Maybe there's also an element of "tradition for tradition's sake" (which, in general, I am not a fan of). In my case, it's the way I was brought up, so there's definitely an element of wanting to please my Dad and my late Grandmother about it, coupled with, having considered the matter from an admittedly biased perspective, I have found no reason to change my view, but only to strengthen it.

I especially hate the idea of sending the gift list with the invitation. And yet, isn't it putting more stress and hassle on guests to have them look it up somewhere? Isn't it better just not to have one? To ask for recipes and photos and such instead, that don't have a financial cost?

We'll see, I guess.

Plans change -- 4-way call.

Pete was very helpful handling my dilemmas mentioned yesterday. He helped me break it down into what needs to be done now, and what needs to be done later. It's not the worst thing in the world if I ship half-finished craft projects or books I want to read later. He's pointed me to recruitment agencies rather than struggling through trying to apply for jobs entirely by myself. Maybe stepping back a little from facebook and the internet, even if not completely.

We had the 4-way call with Pete, Brenda, my Mum and I recently as well. We talked about the balance of risks with having a large crowd at the wedding: either, we need to book the venue and pay the deposit, and risk having a room for 250 people and have 60 people show up and look lost in it, or we need to delay finding a venue until we have replies back from invitations, and risk that we won't be able to find anywhere at much shorter notice. It's a risk either way, especially given that, due to the international nature of mine and Pete's relationship, there are likely to be quite a few who aren't able to make the flight, but we have no idea how many "quite a few" is.

So, we're sending the invites early (next week, if we can), and are putting "reception details to follow".

I hope people are willing to commit that far in advance!

In other news, the call went well, we spoke for about an hour, although we were all surprisingly nervous! I even got changed and put on make up specifically for the occasion, and it's my own Mum! (I have spoken to Brenda without getting changed or wearing makeup lots of times.) Mum and Brenda were both a bit nervous about meeting each other, I think. But it went well. We recapped all of the decisions we've made so far, we got the details about the invites sorted, we have the provisional details about when Pete is coming over for Christmas, and we've agreed to speak nearer the time about all the details relating to the week before the wedding.

Everything sounds good so far! And I am happy to have one thing to focus on regarding the wedding, not 7000 or so. Invites. I just need to do the invites, and we'll worry about the rest later.

Wedding Outfits (Mothers)

When I spoke to Brenda last week, we also got to talking about wedding outfits. Not for the bridal party, which we are planning separately, but for the family. Grab a cuppa whilst we flick through the catalogue together.

Brenda mentioned a tradition she encountered when attending a wedding of her close family friends: the mother of the bride wears blue, and the mother of the groom wears pink, and asked if there was anything like that in England that she should be aware of when she came to get her own outfit. I'd never heard of the above tradition -- that wedding had a bride from "the South" (of the USA). It's kind of its own country, in the way that "the North" of England is kind of its own country too. But no, there's nothing like that here.

My Mum has already bought her outfit - the full outfit. Shoes, bag, fascinator, the lot. This is because, before we had a wedding date, we had thought that maybe, once we got a date, we would move really quickly -- 6 weeks, 8 weeks, 12 weeks maximum, kind of timing. So we were laying the plans in rough draft so they were all ready to go-go-go when the time came.

So Mum has bought her outfit, and it looks lovely. I haven't seen it on yet, but it looks good on the hanger. I hope she won't mind me telling you, it's cream with black accenting. She didn't have the fascinator yet when Brenda and I spoke.

Brenda was asking me about the dress code. Obviously it's a wedding, so "fancy" is appropriate. She asked about hats and fascinators. Mum really does not have a hat face, which is why I thought she'd get a fascinator. She'd been trying different ones on in a few different places, but I think Brenda will get a hat. Maybe a big hat. I didn't tell her this, but I think a blue will look great on Brenda. I hope she finds something great!

(Sidebar: family friends of my own once had to fly to Italy for their daughter's wedding, and she -- Mother -- had a massive hat that needed its own seat. The Italian airport on the way back was actually considerably less perplexed by the idea of paying for an extra seat for the hat, than the British airport were for the journey out there.)

Oh, and Mum bought her fascinator the day after this conversation; she walked past a stall in the shopping centre that she'd never seen before and they had the EXACT fascinator she wants, right there. The EXACT same shade of cream as the shoes (that are just a smidgeon lighter than the dress), it was cream edged in black and not black edged in cream, like she needed, and was of the clippy variety, seeing as Mum had tried various headband styles and found they hurt her ears.

Things like that happen to Mum a lot. She grabbed a scarf and paid for it quickly in a shop in Amsterdam when they were on a river cruise and her coat let in a draught. They only had a few minutes before the boat left again, and she couldn't have picked a colour closer to the colour of her coat if she'd spent three months looking. When she and my stepdad were getting married, the first cake shop they went into had the exact cake that she wanted as one of the displays. They tried to offer to change the shape of the cake, the number of tiers, the shape or colour of the protruding decorations, and it took five times to tell them that she wanted a copy of that cake, exactly as it was.

We finally also set a date for the four-way calling, so I wonder if Mum will show Brenda her outfit then?

Two headstrong women

I finally caught up with Brenda today. She's fine, she's just been busy. We chatted for quite a long while. She's excited about being able to say, "I have family in England!" She's so cute. We're getting a pet together when I move out there. We'll surprise Pete with it! (Hi, honey!)

She's been a real advocate for me. I told her the rough draft of the wedding schedule and she replied, "Sounds great!" She's the only one who has done this... and I'm really glad she has. I needed an advocate about it. I can be very headstrong, and I know I sometimes need reining in, although honestly, I don't think I need it as often as other people say I do. What I suggest (and then stick like glue to), I'm almost always open to suggestions about. But then, the suggestions come, and more often than not, they are things I've already considered, so I don't think they're worth re-examining. And if, having examined this point in the first instance, I arrived (tentatively) at a particular conclusion, and that's the best they've got to poke holes in it, I'm going to become more convinced that that is the correct position and therefore more entrenched in it, which is where people look at it and say "I won't be told." I think they're wrong.

Brenda is actually, just as headstrong as I am. Maybe more so! But, she wields that power well and sparingly. If it is something she can give on, she will, and is happy to do so. She knows the boundary of her own opinion and isn't domineering, and she possesses oodles of one of the qualities I admire most: emotional honesty. Honest about feelings, and particularly about motives. Straightforward, I guess. What you see is what you get. Which is... love. Gentleness (unless you cross her). Kindness.

And welcome.

Throwback Thursday - When Sarah Met Brenda, part II

Sorry this is late, friends. Find part I here.

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We drove back to Pete and Brenda's apartment, parked a good way away because parking spaces in that complex are few and far between, and lugged my stuff all the way to where they live. Opened the door straight in to the sitting room, and nearly tripped over the end of the guest-bed before Pete could get the light on.

I had anticipated being too tired to meet Brenda properly that night, thank God. Pete had asked if she could be asleep when we arrived. Brenda said "I can be in my room with the door shut," which is basically the same thing. What I hadn't anticipated, was a beautiful hand-made card with my name on propped up on my pillow. Pete commented that that had not been there when he'd left the house. Inside was a welcoming note filled with love. I was so touched, I might have cried.

Still wired from getting to see Pete, I think I needed a snuggle from him even more than the sleep I desperately craved, so that happened, and then I went to bed. Slept like a baby and sweltered under the thick fleecy blanket Brenda hadn't realised I wouldn't need, given that I was visiting a warmer climate.

The next morning, I was the first awake, which I was glad about. 8am with light streaming through the patio window next to me, and I was up! (I learned how to close the shades ready for the next night.)

I spent some time on the patio by myself that morning, in my pyjamas. Looking at the sky, that beautiful sky, praying and writing in my travel journal, and I think I really needed that to collect myself.  I love that patio. I love that sky.

Not long after Pete was up and Brenda had heard us talking, she timidly came out of her room to make a cup of coffee and gave the most massive hug. She said "I'm so happy to meet you" and "I love you already", and we were friends for life.

The elusive Brenda

I've been trying to speak to Brenda for about a week. She's been around, we have interacted via facebook, but not to chat specifically. I hope she's ok :-/

Wedding Planning Wednesday -- Four Way Calling

I've made a lot of traction with wedding planning over the past few days!

Sunday I had a session with Mum specifically focused on planning (rather than talking about ideas), that gave me an actionable to-do list, the majority of which I have now done. I've even set up the facebook group for the members of the bridal party, and there's some lively discussion going on there!

Another idea that has come up and seems to be the next step for us is to do a four-way video-chat with me, Pete, my Mum, and Brenda to talk everything through. This will be interesting!

I think my Mum wants to team up with Pete and slightly overrule me? Which is why I want to bring in the big guns (Brenda). She'll be on my side! Hehehe.

Also, I think my Mum and Brenda would get on really well, so I want them to be comfortable with each other.

I need to video-chat with Brenda soon anyway, I'll ask her about that then. I also need to ask her about the rough schedule I've made, see when she's planning to arrive.

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to my Beloved!

So jealous Brenda got to post on his facebook wall before I did. So jealous. I'm eight timezones ahead, but posting at 10am doesn't cut the mustard when she's done the stay-up-past-midnight trick the night before. (And then backed it up with a flash-back photo.) Such a petty thing to obsess about. So representative of the bigger issue, who gets to have the biggest claim on him? I hope this isn't going to be a problem going forward.

Put a fresh pot on, whilst I tell you about Brenda. I love Brenda. She has the biggest heart.

Put a fresh pot on, whilst I tell you about Brenda. I love Brenda. She has the biggest heart.

Brenda has been so kind to me, so welcoming. She's really patient, she's a great listener, she's become my go-to person to listen to all of my own family dramas. (And where there's a wedding, there's family dramas!)

The inviting us to continue living with her isn't just because of money. We could move somewhere else. My cousin in Canada advocates for that country as a possible base (and if it had the climate of Australia, we'd consider it). There are other places. There are other places in the SF area. We could move to Pete's old college town. He could come and live with me on my side of the pond. We have options.

Brenda -- and all of Pete's family -- have taken me in with open arms from the beginning, she genuinely loves me.

It might be true that part of the reason is also because she's worried about being lonely. I don't know if she's ever lived on her own. We all do most things from mixed motives, but she says she'll be fine so I'll believe her.

I didn't realise this until Pete pointed it out, but the main factor in the decision, though, genuinely was altruism. She knows that I won't know anyone when I move over, and Pete will be at work all day. It'll be very easy in those circumstances to sit around and kind of get a bit of a pointless existence apart from waiting for Pete to get home, and then maybe be sullen, withdrawn, or - God forbid - manipulative, when I finally do see him. That won't be good for our marriage at all! Plus I'll likely be homesick...

Brenda saw all of that (or something of it) before I did. It's completely true. I can barely make it through a weekend of house-sitting without getting stir-crazy for having no-one to talk to, and not really eating properly. And yeah, there may be times where Pete and I have to be apart overnight sometimes. I hate that fact, I'd love to be the couple that gets to their golden wedding anniversary and had never spent a night apart, but I don't know from here how feasible or realistic that idea even is. Maybe the only people who ever did it were from a different age and it's just not possible any more. We'll see.

But living with Brenda will be great. I'll have someone to talk to, I'll have someone to wash dishes for during the day (yes, I need someone to wash them for, usually, in order to wash them), I can get permission then and there if I want to move a piece of furniture around, whatever.

At the same time, she will be there, but she won't be intrusive. Pete sometimes goes three days without seeing her (he's out to work before Brenda gets up, and two nights in a row he goes to social activities straight from work).

I love Brenda. Just thought the blog needed a bit of balance so that the (genuine) difficulties I/we experience or anticipate from our proposed living situation don't come across as cruel or mean towards Brenda. I love Brenda. She's the best (apart from Pete!).

...Oh. What would Brenda say?

I'm halfway through Laundry Day and have basically ground to a halt. Laundry should not be this complicated! Isn't laundry the easiest chore there is? Get eight laundry baskets, play hoop-la with all the clothes, bung one load in, keep checking on it, put it in the tumble drier when it's finished, rinse, repeat, and then take over the dining table to get all the clothes folded at the end of the day (whilst still reading blogs and playing commuter games during the day)?

Well, it was, until I realised that putting the washer on for two and a half hours at a time, starting at 9:30am, would not get eight loads of washing done by the time we need to eat dinner. (I started the day folding-as-I-went. That lasted two loads.) I started washing on quick-wash which takes less than 3/4 of an hour. Yes, I've cracked it! ... Until I forg realised that I was still putting the drier on for two and a half hours, even the super-duper big one that holds two loads. Until the washing is three loads ahead of the drying, rinsing a sweatshirt that still looks stained took longer than blankety-blank washing it in the first place, and I... am very overwhelmed.

I could tell Brenda about the laundry being behind. She is lovely and it's just technology and these things happen to everybody at some point. It's how I handled being overwhelmed that I'm not sure of.

I... put my head in the cupboard. There, I said it. I want to take it back but I won't.

I opened both doors to one of the kitchen cupboards, I leaned my head forward and (partially) closed the doors behind me. Behind my ears, so I couldn't hear as much. Where it's slightly darker, slightly cooler, just overall less stimulating.

Then my mind fast forwarded a year or so until the first time Pete catches me doing this. He loves me. (And he knows he's never met anyone like me before, but he also knows me. Knows me. He gets me.) So he wouldn't judge me for hiding in the cupboard. Or building a den in the bottom of the closet. Or moving the sofa forward and sitting behind it on the floor. Or whatever the next thing is.

Then I thought how I'd feel if it was Brenda instead. Suddenly that feels a lot more vulnerable.

I reiterate, she is lovely. But I video chat with her once a month, once every two months, that kind of time frame. I video chat with Pete every day and it isn't enough. Annnd... I'm not marrying Brenda. I'm marrying Pete.

This plan suddenly seems a lot more fragile than it did before.

Airing My Dirty Laundry

When Pete did laundry at my house, when he came to visit me... I laughed at him. Honestly. (Sorry, my love.) Having always been taught to separate by colour, personally, it seemed funny to me to see someone sort their laundry by garment -- a load of t-shirts, a load of trousers, etc. I may even have asked, "Whoever taught you to sort your laundry like that?" (It was Brenda -- perhaps obviously. Ooops.)

Upon further reflection, I've seen the method in the madness, to a certain extent. All the t-shirts, for example, are likely to be just as dirty as all the other t-shirts, and so it makes sense to wash them all together, right? Personally, I can't fathom (grey) dress pants needing the same treatment as (blue) jeans, but apart from that, I can see it.

That is... never... going to work for me.

Because the thing is... I've come so close to becoming a slob. Or, to put it another way, I have been a slob, especially in my teenage years, and I have come a long way since then. But, I know that it only takes two broken routines to be back where I was before with the need to start over. I'm working on it still, but I can't say that doesn't still happen from time to time either, unfortunately.

So, when I find a routine that works, works for me, I have to stick to it. I have no other option. I have to do it the way that works.

Fortunately, I have a laundry system that works. Unfortunately, it's nothing like Pete's. And as laundry ones go, it's quite a complicated one -- because, at least for some things, the more complicated it is upfront, the more time is saved on the other end. The more decisions I can make now, the fewer I'll have to make later (always a good thing!).

My laundry system involves a lot of laundry baskets. When it's working really smoothly, I have about a dozen (yes, a dozen!) baskets lined up that dirty laundry gets tossed into when it becomes dirty; like, when clothes get taken off, towels get used and they've already been used a few times so they shouldn't really just go back on the radiator, that kind of thing. Are you ready?

There's the obvious first: whites, darks, whites-with-patterns-on (the ones I don't wash at a higher temperature), towels, bedding, kitchen linens (aprons, tea towels, dish cloths, etc). All of those are really loads by themselves. When it comes to colours though, I separate further. Which are the two colours most likely to run? Reds and Blues. They each get their own tub. Ideally I'd like to separate out the rest of the coloureds a bit more too, but they can all go together if needed. The same applies to blacks and darks.

Then I need more laundry baskets for moving from washer to drier, carrying back upstairs to put away, etc.

My system works, for me, but I do end up with a parade of laundry baskets in the laundry spot. I justify that this is better than piles of laundry on the floor.

I find having a routine I can depend on to be like a walking stick to help me get through these tasks. If I'm going to have one, I want it to be robust enough to support me.

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As the kids start their summer holidays and we begin making a plan to see us through them, I'm also giving Laundry Day a try, rather than the oft-lauded do-a-load-every-day-business. I'll keep you updated.

I'm trying a couple of new things here too: I'm going to try to schedule this post for tomorrow (wish me luck!), and this is also the first "Make-a-plan Monday." If it goes well, it'll be a regular feature around here.

Oh, I'm So Sorry, I Forgot To Tell You ... Would You Like A Slice of Cake?

How's your tea, friends? Would you like a slice of cake to go with that? I have Victoria Sponge and Carrot Cake -- oh, good choice!

I'm so sorry, I forgot to tell you about why we're here, and introduce you to Brenda. Brenda is Pete's Mom. You'll probably be seeing a lot of her from now on. She's a very lovely lady.

However, San Francisco is a very expensive place to live. Pete is working, but when I first get out there, I won't be, necessarily. Pete and his Mom currently share an apartment, and the plan is that after Pete and I get married, that continues and I just get added to the mix. The same apartment, Brenda still living there along with Pete, we'll swap bedrooms but it'll be the three of us from almost Day One.

I was going to start this blog after I'd moved, hence the title. Then I had to start the blog early, so here we are. Wait until I tell that story!