So I’m thinking of ending this blog and just continuing with my original blog, Petunia Town Girl. If I’m able, I’ll fold these posts into that blog.

Why? Because I don’t post very much here. Because I’m finding it difficult to be motivated to post much here. Because there are so many other wonderful blogs whose content and mission do a much better job of encapsulating what I intended to do with The Humble Life. Also, I just can’t take the pressure. My eye is forever twitching! Finally, besides Petunia Town Girl, I also want to devote more energies to my Iowa City blog, the Icicle.

Thoughts?

I’m sure I am not alone in this feeling–of being further and further down the adulthood road but having this uncomfortable pang that I went the wrong way. I shouldn’t be here. It doesn’t feel right.

I turned 35 on May 7th and it was a pretty good birthday–I didn’t cry–but strange. Strange because it makes no sense to me that I am 35 years old.

I don’t think I have discomfort with aging strictly for reasons of vanity (though there is that newish concern for wrinkles and gray hair), but for more existential concerns. Like, what have I done? Have a done enough? Am I on the right path? Why am I not in the place I thought I would be?

But I’m getting over it, I am. It was uncomfortable for a little while but then I said “screw it” and moved on. Nothing to see here. No self-pity. Just a 35 year old pretty darn content woman who keeps working on making things even better. There is no timeline for how life should be. There is only life. There is also cake. And cake is good.

And in other news, presents! Pictures! Some of the wonderful things I got—

flowers from my friend:

requested perfume from Husband (Amazing Grace by Philosophy)

Orla Kiely Target mugs from brother-in-law and his wife:

And other wonderful goodies: beautiful smelling soy candle, Starbucks gift card, stuff from See Jane Work, books, and money (money is always nice).

This article in Salon really affected me.

Here is the truth about my life: I have a lot of debt. Credit card debt and student loan debt. We rent a townhouse. We have one car which is 8 years old. We have one child. Our child goes to public school. The most we have ever paid for a piece of furniture was about 350 dollars. Most of our clothes were bought on sale or were given as gifts for Christmas or birthdays. We don’t have a real stereo system. We do have a laptop, flat screen tv (which we bought with Christmas money), 2 cell phones and an MP3 player.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this: I shouldn’t feel guilty about my life and the way I live. It isn’t a life of luxury. But I do.

I do because I spend too much money on fancy coffee drinks and groceries and cable and movies and eating out. I do because I’m guilty of wanting more stuff–more clothes, a nicer car, more furniture (nicer furniture), shoes, art (lots and lots of art prints–oh Etsy, you kill me), cute dishes, new organic sheets, half of what is available at Sundance, and a fresh flowers every week. And, really, I have enough stuff. More than enough.

So let’s all try to make a pledge to care less about stuff and more about each other. I don’t know why I even say that, I know you do anyway.

I saw this on Apartment Therapy (well, they had the little car one featured) and I instantly added it to my universal Amazon Wish List.

Stick Nymph prints are adorable.

All the great paper products at dozi

If you are like me and you like birds, then you’d find lots to like at The Peach Pit.

All sorts of cool and whimsical cupcake liners can be found at CupcakeSocial.

One of my favorite blogs to read is literary agent Nathan Bransford’s daily advice and musings. Recently he posted a question: where do you write?

Where do I write? When I write my blogs it is usually here at this black IKEA desk in the middle of our combination dining/living room/office. In front of me is a framed map of Europe that was meant to be wrapping paper. I love those single wrapping paper sheets some stores sell! It’s kinda cluttered and full of cat hair because the cats like to crawl all over me half the time I’m on the computer.

But when I work on creative writing–I just can’t do it at a desk. I don’t know why. It feels constricting. Non-creative. There is no window to gaze out of or people to watch. At coffeeshops I feel comforted and inspired by the individuals around me–having conversations, reading books, working on their laptops. I like the busyness. I like the atmosphere of work being done, or creativity happening, or just a bunch of women knitting and giggling. It helps me write.

I also like to strip down to my undies and get under the covers. Although at home I get distracted by the mess or the clutter or the cats. Especially the cats. But the bed is truly my favorite place to be. And if I nap, well then I nap. I have nothing against naps.

We don’t do much for Easter. My mom makes an awesome gift basket for the kid (and I make one too, but it is much less awesome). We color eggs. We throw in some egg hunts. We don’t go to church so there is no dressing up in our Sunday best and I am never on the ball about making brunch reservations on time. I really ought pick up my holiday ritual slack.

But anyway, I hope everyone out there in internet land had a nice Easter. And I’m very excited about Spring. Flowers, warmer breezes, feeling groovy.

Ever have those days where you just can’t handle making coffee at home–because you have to clean about four different parts of your grind and brew and the counters are a mess and it is hard to fill up the Britta pitcher with all the pots and pans crowding the sink? I call these days “I have a bad headache or allergies or I’m pmsing and life sucks too much right now to get off this couch.”

That’s why I’m thankful for these little cans of starbucks espresso and milk. They help me pull through.

Spring is here officially (though it doesn’t quite feel like it yet here in Iowa) and I have Spring cleaning on the brain. And snot in the nose. Hello Spring Allergies! And these allergies are kinda stunting my spring cleaning. So it is frustrating. And what else to allergies do? They make me cranky. Actually, not lower case cranky but uppercase CRANKY. And what doesn’t help with the crankiness? That would be clutter.

My child’s room is like an explosion of cheap plastic colorful things. Ick. My own bedroom is an explosion of clothing–an attempt to transition from the winter to spring clothes while also trying to figure out what I can get rid of. My cat has made a nice bed on one of the piles.

I can’t even handle going into the basement.

Hopefully soon my allergies will be lessoned and the headaches will go away and the crankiness will subside and I will reclaim my home and life again. I’m looking forward to it. I’m looking forward to deep cleaning that bathroom and wiping down the shelves and throwing out oodles of cheap plastic colorful things.

I’m starting to feel old. Because I’m almost thirty-five. Because my (harmless) crushes are all younger than I am. Because there are wrinkles on the face and gray hairs growing here and there on the head. And I’m wondering if I should start really paying attention to my skin scare. Like really really. Like do I need dish out 30 some dollars for eye cream?

What say you, internet? What is the recommendation for a woman in her thirties who wants to save her skin? Yes, I know, sunblock, of course. Moisturizer, of course (any faves?). But what about that other stuff? That anti-wrinkle, skin plumping, age defying stuff. Do I need it? Does it work? Is there affordable stuff out there?

Next up, teeth whitening.

I finally made the orange brownies! My sister sent me Paula Deen’s recipe a month or so ago and I’ve been intent on making them ever since. Various ingredients have been set out on my counter to remind me. Finally last Saturday–being stirred to action by friends coming over–I made them. And they were yummy! My friends agreed. My husband found them too rich. My daughter wouldn’t even try them (Orange Brownie doesn’t compute in her world, I guess). But I would make them again. Just for myself. Or my parents. And myself. And my friends. Lots of butter and sugar, of course.

The other recipe I had been meaning to make for a very long time is the Banana Sour Cream Pancakes from Barefoot Contessa. Very thick and cakey. I like them, especially the banana bits, but I’m not sure I loved them enough to make them again. I think I prefer my pancakes more on the light and fluffy side.

OK, I really need to step away from the sugar.