Project 52: thirty-one

-- this, my friends, is a beautiful vintage Pentax ME Super,
a totally-out-of-the-blue gift from my sister, Lauren.
2012 project: see if I can get this baby up and running.
If not, it's just so pretty to look at.

Eleven in '11

I have a little stash of things that I love with a love that is large in part because no one else knows about those things. However, most of the time I'm more of an unintentional reverse hipster: instead of loving something before it's cool, I love it long after people have stopped remembering it ever was cool. That's why I'm posting a best-of-2011 list now, even though everyone else was doing things like this in December. I make no apologies. I'm a late bloomer.

As per my usual favouritism policy, I won't go so far as to say this list is my Absolutely Positively Top Eleven. I hate choosing favourites and I'd invariably change my mind tomorrow if I went so far as to decree unimpeachable favouriteness about any of these (except maybe items #10 and #11). Therein is my caveat, and here is my list of eleven greats of 2011:

1. [book] Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli. This book didn't change my life and I could put it down between readings. But it's stayed with me because of its exquisite characterisation and beautiful writing. Stargirl is everything a YA book should be, and Jerry Spinelli is the man when it comes to fiction for younger readers.

2. [book] Birthmarked by Caragh O'Brien. After the 2010 Hunger Games binge, it was always going to be hard to find any YA dystopia that could stand proudly next to Katniss and crew. So far, nothing has come close, but Birthmarked was an excellent story. I felt it needed more editing, but the story was good enough to keep me reading in spite of those flaws.

3. [book] Telling the Truth by Frederick Buechner. There is not enough Buechner in my life -- in anyone's life. This little book was a beautiful, poetic look at the amazing storyness of the Gospel. I reviewed it here.

4. [album] Love & War & the Sea in Between Josh Garrels. Josh Garrels is my favourite new-to-me artist. His music is an incredible melding of exquisite poetry, haunting melodies, a whole bunch of genres that nevertheless makes sense, and a Christ-centric message. I wish I knew how to review music better because his stuff deserves it. Just go listen already.

5. [album] Rehab LeCrae. So I like hip-hop and rap now. Who knew? LeCrae's music is excellent, and the lyrics are soaked in God-truths. This album was a timely blessing for my brain in 2011.

6. [film] The King's Speech, directed by Tom Hooper. I love history and I love films about history. More than that, however, I love films about people. This one ticks all the boxes and was an immaculate period drama that deserves every award it received. Also, we all now love George VI more than we did before.

7. [film] The Help, directed by Tate Taylor. (The book was even better, but this is my cheaty way of recommending them both.) The Help reminded me of how quickly we can forget the breadth of the mistakes that have been made. The race clashes The Help documents were happening just fifteen years before I was born; this stuff isn't old news, and it's told with beautiful characterisation, beautiful setting, and excellent actors.

8. [blog] The Accidental Traveler. Kate Andre's blog was a new discovery for me in early 2011, and I've been so blessed and challenged by it. The internet needs more blogs like this -- humble, sincere, genuine expositions of life and faith and motherhood and mistakes. I love it.

9. [blog] Everyday Isa. I found Isa's blog only a few months ago, but it has quickly become a favourite read. Isa discusses God and creativity and being a girl, and she really knows how to make nice words.

10. [person] Abby by Lauren and James. This chubby parcel of pink and blonde landed on the planet in May, and the world has never been the same since. I never knew people so small could have so much personality. She's beautiful.

11. [person] Daniel by Sam and Andrea. For a little man who's only six months old, already he exudes serenity and is the best variation of the strong, silent type: the strong, silent, smiling type. I have never met a more content little person in all my life. I'm honoured to know them both.

* * * * *

Conversations:

Joy -- yes, that's Lauren's little one. Isn't she precious?

Sarah -- I agree. They're little enough to be cute and squishy, but big enough to have their own developing personalities :).

Lauren -- thanks!

Un -- haha!! GOPEE yourself!

Jessica -- yes. Tongue was firmly in cheek, with a little happy sarcasm sprinkled on.

Hannah -- you are sweet! Thank you, on both counts!

Samantha R -- thanks for your sweet comments on my pics :).

Project 52: thirty

Because nothing says New Year's Eve like a chubby Australian baby sitting on a picnic rug eating sunscreen, am I right?

Project 52: twenty-nine

Christmas dinner in the Carey household.

(I entirely forgot about uploading any of my Project 52 pictures, so here they are now, belatedly)

* * * * *

Conversations:

Maddy -- and the same to you! Yes, it was definitely a lovely time with everyone -- so much laughing!

Carla and Alastair -- you are so right. On an episode of Gilmore Girls last night, Luke said something about how Lorelai was happy but she still seemed a bit sad. "Haven't you ever been around a woman?" was Lorelai's reply. I think growing up is kind of similar.

Katie -- as I hope for you :).

Thelittlebluefishy -- and the same to you! Your profile pic is super cute :).

Staish -- let's understand more, together!

Brenda -- if we could only shift the end of the year to a time less busy than the end of the year! ;)

Jessica -- yay! I'm glad it got to you safely.

Un -- :)

Ready:

When I was in my early teens, a so much more grown up young woman friend of mine told me how she would meet each new year: at her little writing desk, with candles all around her, scribbling down her reflections on the end of the annum. It sounded amazing, and is probably a large part of the reason I want to get all reflective whenever the year draws to a close.

But new years around here invariably flip over amid a buzz of busyness, leaving little time for journal-scribbling, candlelighting, or serious pondering. It's inconsiderate, really; oughtn't a new year make its entrance at a less busy time than, you know, the end of the year? Nevertheless, even though I sometimes crave a stop-and-pause, I'd rather be living life at the end of the year than just reflecting on it.

Sometimes a new year feels more lonely than anything else. I think I'm an optimist because I seem to expect the best and then get disappointed when my dreams don't come true. And sometimes, the big moments remind me of what's missing from my life, rather than what's already there. This new year, however, there was no room for loneliness or loss. Instead, I was surrounded by my closest people -- my parents, my littlest brother, my sisters, and their adorable precious children.

All of us, the baby families branching off from the parent family, sat around for a big barbecue dinner together. We pulled crackers and read bad jokes and made glo-stick bracelets and haloes, even though the two brothers-in-law swore they wouldn't go out with us if we wore them, even though we swore we wouldn't take them off. The girls won, and the guys accompanied the glowing girls and the children down the hill where we met with hundreds of other locals for fireworks at 9pm. Grammy stayed home to mind the babies, who were sleeping, and Amelia promised she would 'remember all the colours to tell Grammy.'

Home again, the children went to bed and the guys went out for some late-night fishing, leaving my sisters and my parents and me. For just those few hours, and with the exception of my brother Nick in WA, it was like old times again before there were any weddings or babies or people living all over Australia. I wouldn't go back -- I don't think any of us would -- but it was special to be in that place for one evening, and we sat and ate chocolates and watched a movie together and rushed outside when midnight hit, shouting happiness in our own chilled way.

It was a good start to 2012, one that left me more satisfied and less introspective than some new years. I don't have any great conclusions drawn from the months of 2011, only that, as I told friends in my Christmas newsletter, it felt like a settled year, particularly externally. Internally, there is always more to learn. 2011 was the first year I felt genuinely worried about grown up things like financial stability and making preparations for the future. Of course, I've thought about those things a lot, but last year was the first time I really felt them lean toward me in a menacing way. 2011 was also the year I discovered not one but several grey hairs. Do these two events go hand-in-hand? Perhaps.

Life highlights life, it seems, and brings to light everything we are as well as everything we're not. Living with my family once again brought into sharp focus my at times life-sucking sense of insecurity and my failures to truly love as Christ teaches us to love. While I've heard forever that we must find our worth and our identity in Christ, I've never really understood what that meant. "That's just a pretty phrase and no one will explain to me how to do that!!" sums it up, basically. But over the past few months I've been mulling over this whole identity thing, and realising it goes way, way back to creation. Our worth -- my worth, your worth -- cannot stem from what we do or how we act, what we have or what we make, whether we are creative or fabulous or funny or sweet or loving or saintly or brave. Rather, this worth is something quite apart from us, imbued because we are made by a great God who saw what He'd done and called it very good. Nothing we do changes that. It's all about Him.

So this year I haven't made resolutions as such. I'm just praying that I'll understand this more and live it out more. I desire holy confidence and bold love, fuelled by God and in imitation of Christ.

Welcome, 2012. We're ready for you.

* * * * *

Conversations:

Anonymous -- I'm glad it was an encouragement :).

Shaina -- thank you so much for your kind comment! It made my heart leap to get a comment from the lady whose blog inspired this whole Project 52 journey!

Joy -- thank you so much! And all the same back to you :).

Chantel -- yay!! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! And do let me know if you give those cookies a try. xx

Sarah -- happy new year to you, too!

Love came down:

I still remember the small-girl feeling of deep contentment that would settle low in my stomach during the hazy drive home from the grandparents’ house at the end of Christmas Day. I’d fall half-asleep with a handful of gifts clutched in my lap, my belly full of good things and my memory warmed by the hugs and happy conversation of cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents. The black of night wrapped around the car like a blanket, and I was already anticipating waking on Boxing Day to an entire day of remembering, playing with new treasures, and eating good leftovers. But a part of me was always scared that I wouldn’t get to see that tomorrow, that all of today’s happiness would be cut short. So before I let myself sleep, I’d wrap my arms around myself and pray, ‘Not tonight please, Jesus.’ (read more)

It's Christmas Eve, and the rest of my family -- including my sister, brother-in-law, and wee baby niece -- are all making their way to their respective beds. For you, I wish peace and joy in the rememberance of the greatest Gift. Love to you.

(I hope I can sleep!)

* * * * *

Conversations:

Brenda -- they really are awesome!

Un -- the phone convo with you definitely helped inspire me to post -- and to make Scandinavian almond bars!

Cara -- my sister Lauren pointed out a link to the recipe right here. Hope you saw it before the need for them passed!

Lauren -- nail painting? check! :)

Littlebluefishy -- aw, so glad you like the pictures :). And yes, those pencils are so cool! Looking forward to eating some of those almond bars tomorrow. Merry Christmas!

Katie -- and I hope just the same for you -- with pictures!

Hannah -- hooray!!! I'll look forward to checking out your blog. So glad you're in blogland :). xxx

The goose is getting fat:

My little brother has been counting down to Christmas day for many weeks. My mother and I wore out of ways to explain to him just how far away Christmas actually was, so at the start of November we drew up a countdown calendar with a red bauble for him to colour in each night before bed. It was the perfect way for him to visualise Christmas drawing near. Only eventually he decided that the process was "too slowed down" (his own words) and took to surreptitiously colouring in two or three baubles when no one was looking -- then making the grand announcement that Christmas was so much closer. If only that's how it worked.

Now, however, Christmas really is almost here. In fact, I kind of think it already is here. It's not just the day; it's this whole busy happy bustly jolly season. Tain is loving it, and (though sometimes afflicted with a curious emotional paralysis as well as occasionally being startled by the breach between expectations and actuality), I am too.

Around here, Christmas is happening...

... in the mailbox. It's old-fashioned and it's dying off and it's probably even a little bit dorky, but I just love family Christmas letters and the cards they are tucked into. I didn't write one myself last year, and I missed it a lot. This year, I pushed aside the thought that I'm a grandmother before my time, and wrote my little newsletter (rather in a hurry, and completely forgetting all the funny little-brother anecdotes I was going to include). It felt nice to reconnect with people I love, even if only by proxy and on paper.


Outgoing mail is exciting, but incoming mail is even more so -- perhaps because of the delicious unpredictability of it, and the knowledge that someone, somewhere, has taken time out of their own busy life to send something tangible. This week's mail has brought so many happy connections, including a parcel from a precious blog reader and friend from the days of Whatsoever Magazine. You guys, this lovely lady sent me Penguin paperback pencils, which just made my day! I just want to line them up next to the pretty Penguin novels and stare at their awesome design. Along with the gorgeous box of pencils, there was also a sweet, girly journal and the cutest little birdy card-holder, as well as the much needed reminder to keep calm and write something -- all tied up in a chirpy polka-dot ribbon. I'm tempted to write cheesy things about the package; the generosity and thought so obviously sown into this gift genuinely touched my heart.


... in the kitchen. This year, we get to spread the Christmas dinner preparation between three kitchens -- my mum's, my sister Lauren's, and mine. We all get to be part of the fun, and it makes the job so much more manageable, too. I'm making a potato bake and a black forest trifle, a recipe which has gone through a series of metamorphoses from tiramisu into something quite different. Today, I spent several hot and floury hours baking biscuits for post-Christmas guests. My sister Andrea was whipping up some Scandinavian Almond Bars, and they sounded so good that I totally copied her.


... in the neighbourhood. There are lights in the streets and carols playing in the supermarkets, and the gospel is more tangible and more present for many people than at any other time in their year. There is commercialism, yes, and cash, and clamour, too, but there is also Christ. Without Him, there wouldn't be any of this.

I'm grateful there's a Saviour, and that He knows what it's like to be human.

* * * * *

Conversations:

Un -- :)

Laura Elizabeth -- uh, you nailed it! I have grown to love the Professor and realised Laurie wasn't right for Jo, but Laurie and Amy? I still haven't grown quite used to that! (I'm glad you rewatched; it's a beautiful movie).

Carla and Alastair -- yes! Christmas sparkles foreverrrr!

Lauren -- thankee :)

Samantha R -- thank you! xx