Mom…
05/07/2011
It’s time to honor your mom. I’m lucky enough to still have mine…Rosalynn Piekanski. Roz to everyone. Rozzie when “wine coolers” are involved…her favorite beverage to order. I know. Endearing.
Even though more than 2,000 miles separate us and I can’t take her to breakfast, she knows how much she means to me. After all, I did send her a Dairy Queen gift card. Sounds silly, but I knew she’d love it and she did, and isn’t that all that matters? I’m certain Zales would disagree, but my mom and I both know that making someone smile doesn’t require Zales. It’s one of countless lessons she’s taught me.
My mom and I are very different in terms of our career choices, life paths, worldviews and personalities. Growing up, she’d say black and I’d say white. Without fail. These days, she says beige and I say khaki. I now find myself doing some of the things that made me insane when she did them. Drying splashes out of the stainless steel sink comes to mind. We’ve come a very long way, as many mothers and daughters do over a lifetime, and I feel so lucky to have her. She supports me in every way, even when we both know she would make “the other” decision. I’m grateful. She has taught me to be independent, be strong and be myself. Always. I carry this with me. They are the most important lessons. They apply every day.
Hallmark can’t come close to crafting a card that’s just right for my mom…beautiful…nurturing…resourceful…predictable in a lovable way…organized beyond words…fan of Train…lover of instructional manuals…extremely thoughtful…an exceptional grandma to my niece…cheerleader and #1 fan even when she has to research and learn what she’s cheering for when it comes to some of my interests…luckier in a casino than anyone I’ve ever met in real life or the movies (Rain Man excluded).
She also has hot legs! And damn can she dance!
So to my mom, a complex lady that I love deeply, I raise my Bartles & Jaymes exotic berry wine cooler to you. I miss you. Every. Day.
Love,
Tara
You Had Me At Hello.
02/21/2011
I’m back.
Where have I been for the past 7 months, 2 days and 3 hours?
Living life.
And…
Running.
And…
Buying stuff. (Oops! This blog is about minimalism. More later).
And…
Trying to come up with an answer to the “Hello. Why haven’t you blogged?” emails I’ve received. So to my parents, cousins and kind readers who don’t share my genes, I’m back. You had me at hello. Truth is, I’ve missed writing and sharing the nonsense that fills my noggin. We had some good meet-ups in the comments section too!
A year ago I began minimizing with wild abandon. Couldn’t get enough. Found my calling. My project. My guilty pleasure. I became obsessed with giving away everything that had no purpose or I hadn’t touched in six months. I wanted to fit my life in a big backpack or tiny clown car – take your pick. I loved writing about it. Then “one day I just stopped” (a la Forrest Gump).
After a girl gives almost everything away, there’s not much else to say on a blog about minimalism.
Wrong again, Tara! Over the past 7 months, 2 days and 3 hours I’ve amassed countless ideas for posts. So it begins again today with a fresh twist. And oh yes, over the course of 66 posts I forgot to introduce myself. It’s Tara Maras. Nice to meet you. Not sure why it took me so long to reveal myself. Maybe I thought you’d be offended by my commentary on cluster balloonists, Kathie Lee and Billy Mays…
So to bring you up to speed:
- I’m enjoying the tax benefits of my Purgeapalooza.
- Me. The wagon. Falling off. Sometimes a girl just has to be a girl. I still agree.
- “Truck Nuts” – I’ve yet to find the appeal.
- My Garfield ruler will be an antique in 72 years.
- Fresh & Easy’s pickle selections are still limited. Amen.
- I bared my armpits and praised baking soda as deodorant. I’ve since regained consciousness. (Effective and earth friendly, yes. Weird and Laura Ingalls like, yes.)
- I don’t regret donating my miniatures.
- That 60 percent of my wardrobe I gave away? 40 percent is back. (Stay tuned for post!)
- I still get a charge from driving with the windows down, radio up.
- The library was fun for a bit, but I’m impatient. Kindle all the way.
- I still go bananas over bananas.
- What’s playing in your ear buds? Thanks for your suggestions.
- Dad remains the bomb, sweater vests and all.
- Farming as an occupation still fascinates me. Sleeping in is still a waste of time.
- Cowboys using anytime minutes – it continues in Centennial Hills.
- Kathie Lee’s sex-me-up dresses are still inappropriate for Studio 1A. Really, NBC?
What have I learned during my hiatus?
- I love spending time with family and friends (human and canine).
- I love my job.
- I love running.
- I love writing.
- I love eating muffins.
I’m consistently fulfilling 4 of my 5 “loves.” That could only mean one thing.
It’s time to get writing.
Thanks for joining me! Now let’s have some fun.
Who’s Your Daddy?
06/20/2010
Who’s your daddy?
Literally, that is.
‘Tis the day to celebrate dads, and I’ve been thinking a lot about mine this week. In response to my own question, my dad is a fun-loving, complex, thoughtful, authentic, intelligent, resourceful, trustworthy, funny, articulate, caring, dependable, do-anything-for-his-family, entertaining, carpe diem kind of guy. He’s one of those men Shakespeare, the genius of character development, might have brought to life in a play, which would now be a classic.
Pretty cool dad, I know.
Here’s why he’s the bomb (sometimes you just gotta use “the bomb” to make your point!).
- He let us dive off his knees and bury him in sand at Presque Isle.
- He relocated the mailbox at the end of our driveway to install a basketball hoop.
- He’s a firm believer that one is never too old for a twin pop popsicle (or 15), or to line the sticks up on the couch.
- He built us a real tree house in a real tree.
- He knows there’s no substitute for really hard work.
- He wears sweater vests. We used to make fun of him, but they’ve become endearing. His signature.
- He knows how to work a car deal better than anyone, real or imagined.
- He’s an inspiration for anyone who wants to be active. I remember days when he’d play racquetball at 5 a.m., work out at the YMCA at lunch, and golf after work.
- He went to a Springsteen concert with me.
- He sends me funny texts.
- He dedicated his career to educating kids with disabilities. He never told me how lucky I was. He didn’t have to.
- He’s an excellent listener, and the first person I turn to for advice on everything.
- He taught me how to make good decisions about (insert everything).
- He took me to the Erie Sport Store ski swap and helped me pick out cool gear so I’d look like a real (5th grade) pro when he took me cross-country skiing.
- He was more nervous than I was on my wedding day.
- He can cut the rug. (How my parents know how to dance is beyond me!)
- He cries at weddings, funerals, birthdays, dog food commercials, during the national anthem, etc.
- He raised two daughters and lived to talk about it, with my mom – his wife of 37 years.
- He locks his keys in the car. A lot. My mom has never locked her keys in the car. He knows his role.
- He appreciates the little things in life – a new t-shirt, new restaurant, found golf ball, a drive with no real destination.
- He’s a great cook, not afraid to use spices (or anything else he feels like tossing in) and makes a giant mess.
- He taught me the value of money, of working for it, saving it, and enjoying it.
- He knows how to build, fix, landscape, decorate, restore, side, roof, tile, and everything else Home Depot offers.
- He is the best person to have a beer with on a hot summer night.
- He’s never let me down.
Happy Father’s Day dad. Thank you for every day. You are one of a kind.
1,000 Reasons to Smile
05/06/2010
If brown is the new black and social media is the new rock ‘n’ roll, is 1,000 the new 100?
Think about it. One hundred of anything isn’t what it used to be…$100, 100 square feet, 100 anytime minutes, 100 MP3 songs. Sadly, the once-impressive three-digit quantity is now regarded as pocket change, a tiny closet and a cell plan fit for a granny ready for roadside emergencies – who has just enough songs on her iPod to rock on until AAA arrives.
Try as I might, it’s hard to escape the influences of society. That’s why I wasn’t impressed when my blog’s “total views” hit 100. It was a WAY different story when I struck 1,000. I did the dance of joy! I called my mom! I ate a cookie! The count stands at 1,187 and that’s – ahem – excluding visits from yours truly. (Don’t laugh. I know you Google yourself. Same thing.)
Seven weeks ago, fueled by a Purgeapalooza of epic proportions (I gave away 795 items!), I set out to share my story about living simply in Las Vegas. Along the way I’ve received insightful comments from dozens of you and met many talented minimalist bloggers.
Life has “done a 180″ for me, in that I now only purchase what I need (almost nothing) and have loads more time to focus on the good stuff in life. Whaddya know, I’ve never felt better!
Whoever you are out there, thanks for reading. I hope you’ll stick around. The fun has only just begun.
Did you enjoy this? Please sign up to get new posts via email or RSS feed. Share your comments and ideas too. I’d love to chat. I’d love for you to tell your friends about this blog! Thanks for reading.
There has been SO much chit chat lately on minimalist blogs (You, Simplified and Far Beyond the Stars, to name a few) about the 100 Things Challenge that I feel compelled to weigh in from Fabulous Las Vegas. Incidentally, you won’t find 99 bottles of beer on my wall or 100 things in my home. Much less beer. Many more things.
(Wondering, did any minimalists out there sing “99 Bottles of Beer” on family road trips back in the day? Those beer bottles and the wall would suck up the 100 thing count right there! I digress…)
Where do I stand on narrowing my possessions down to 100 things? Here’s how I see it from my vantage point, which happens to be my desk at the moment…
- Computer
- Desk lamp
- Lake Erie stone coaster
- Stainless steel Starbucks mug atop said coaster
- Desk this is all balanced on
- Chair upon which my chairpaid rests
- Chairpad upon which my butt rests
- Big wall clock
- Mini wall clock (Why two? I love and use them both.)
- Blender
- Toaster
- Olive oil jar
- Salt grinder
- Pepper grinder
- Microwave
- Double oven (Does that count as two? Only at Thanksgiving?)
- Refrigerator
- Dishwasher
- Kitchen table
- Area rug under kitchen table
- Chair 1
- Chair 2
- Chair 3
- Chair 4
- Big glass candle holder centerpiece
- Houseplant 1
- Houseplant 2
- Houseplant 3
- Houseplant 4
- Houseplant 5
- Houseplant 6
- Plant stand 1
- Plant stand 2
- Coffee percolator
- Chair 1 at kitchen island
- Chair 2 at kicthen island
- Chair 3 at kitchen island
- Frying pan
- Small saucepan
- Medium saucepan
- Big saucepan
- Griswold frying pan
- Giant red pot for cooking soups, chilis and tempura veggies
- Cookie sheet 1
- Cookie sheet 2
- Wooden pizza paddle (used weekly thankyouverymuch)
- Collander
- Fiestaware water glass 1
- Fiestaware water glass 2
- Fiestaware water glass 3
- Fiestaware water glass 4
- Fiestaware water glass 5
- Fiestaware water glass 6
- Fiestaware water glass 7
- Fiestaware water glass 8
- Fiestaware place setting 1
- Fiestaware place setting 2
- Fiestaware place setting 3
- Fiestaware place setting 4
- Fiestaware place setting 5
- Fiestaware place setting 6
- Fiestaware place setting 7
- Fiestaware place setting 8
- Red wine glass 1
- Red wine glass 2
- Red wine glass 3
- Red wine glass 4
- White wine glass 1
- White wine glass 2
- White wine glass 3
- White wine glass 4
- White wine glass 5
- White wine glass 6
- Measuring cup (1 cup)
- Measuring cup (3/4 cup)
- Measuring cup (1/2 cup)
- Measuring cup (1/4 cup)
- Measuring cup (1/8 cup)
- Tablespoon
- 1/2 tablespoon
- Teaspoon
- 1/2 teaspoon
- 1/4 teaspoon
- “Just a pinch” teaspoon
- Rolling pin
- Slotted spoon
- Ladle
- Unslotted spoon
- Wooden spoon
- Spatula
- Hand can opener
- Pizza cutter
- Ice cream scoop
- Sponge
- Steel wool (for stubborn pans)
- Big glass cutting board
- Small plastic cutting board
- Soap dispenser
- Dishtowel
- Dish drainer
I didn’t even get to the curtain panels, curtain rods or shutters yet. I barely opened the drawers. I could go on. And on. And on. You get my point. I write this post not to stir the pot (I have four, in case you weren’t paying attention above), but to share my reality. For me, this incomplete list of a corner of my home symbolizes simplicity for me.
If you fell off your chair laughing, I hope you didn’t injure yourself.
There used to be four times as much stuff. That was just six weeks ago.
Those of you who can put all your belongings in a backpack intrigue and impress me. I read your blogs religiously and learn countless lessons from your lifestyle. I apply them to my own and in the end, I’m pretty sure we’re all happy just being ourselves on this interesting journey. I know I am.
Maybe you can carry everything on your back. Someone else had four toyboxes and now has two. I had 24 purses and now have four. Your progress is impressive. Toybox owner’s progress is impressive. My progress is impressive.
I don’t plan to fit my Fiestaware in my four purses, along with the kitchen tools I love and use consistently. I do; however, aspire to keep on minimizing to the point that I only own items that I use regularly or love. Turns out, items I love are ones I use regularly. I’m pretty sure this is a good thing.
(In case you’re wondering, the Fiestaware is staying put. Every meal is a party on my plate. I like it that way.)
There’s enough simplicity to go around, and clearly enough passion out there. Let’s get on with our bad simple selves and not take all of this too seriously.
We can all have a slice of the simplicity pie – and a beer to wash it down. I hear there’s plenty on the wall.
Cheers!
