Ten Thousand Villages

In case you are like me and haven't heard of this place, I have to share my most recent exciting find - Ten Thousand Villages, an amazing store on Grand Avenue in St. Paul (across from Cafe Latte in the mall by Bread and Chocolate). The non-profit store sells handmade gifts, jewelry, decor, art and more for extremely reasonable prices. I was going nuts over the pottery, textiles, necklaces and instruments!

But what's really cool is that the company is one of the world's largest fair trade organizations and a founding member of the World Fair Trade Organization. Here's what I learned on the Ten Thousand Villages website:

The company strives to improve the livelihood of tens of thousands of disadvantaged artisans in 38 countries. Ten Thousand Villages accomplishes this by establishing a sustainable market for handmade products in North America, and building long term buying relationships in places where skilled artisan partners lack opportunities for stable income. Product sales help pay for food, education, healthcare and housing for artisans who would otherwise be unemployed or underemployed.

How great is that?! This is my new favorite store and where I will be buying all my gifts going forward for my lucky friends and family. Too good not to share...

The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

My surgery is scheduled for March 10. Five weeks after the ultrasound where they discovered the orange-sized complex tumor on my ovary. If the tumor doesn't kill me, I'm afraid the waiting might.

People keep telling me I should be happy the doctors aren't rushing it - it means they aren't worried. I see the point, and many recent signs have been positive, but still - we don't know what this is until we get it out.

Others tell me just to put my trust in the doctors and God. But it's hard to trust the doctors when the first one who felt this growth thought it was a fibroid in my uterus and wanted to feel it again next year. The ultrasound was by my demand. And God, well, last time I checked he wasn't offering up any cure for cancer.

I hate to complain, but this waiting room is a cold, dark and lonely place. I'm trying to pass the time with pleasant things like good music (check out Fanfarlo) and books (LOVED The Book Thief), but the clock on the wall keeps distracting me with its loud, slow tick.

I sure hope my patience is rewarded with good news. In the end, I guess I can only hope that the waiting is the hardest part.

Marriage with Intention

In my previous post about my lack of attention to my marriage last year, I mentioned that I planned to read Elizabeth Gilbert's new book, Committed. Well, I just finished it and frankly kind of wish I would have devoted the time to my marriage instead (I was reminded of how when reading Eat, Pray, Love I grew terribly tired of Gilbert's company somewhere in India). Still, I read Committed cover to cover because I had a hunch that Gilbert wouldn't break her trend of happy endings and, in that regard, she did not fail me.

I completed the book with one dog-eared page that may have made the whole book worth my time. Funny enough, the passage that spoke to me was a quote from another author:

The poet Jack Gilbert...wrote that marriage is what happens "between the memorable." He said that we often look back on our marriages years later, perhaps after one spouse has died, and all we can recall are "the vacations and emergencies" - the high points and low points. The rest of it blends into a blurry sort of daily sameness. But it is that very blurred sameness, the poet argues, that comprises marriage. Marriage is those two thousand indistinguishable breakfasts, where intimacy turns like a slow wheel. How do you measure the worth of becoming that familiar to somebody - so utterly well known and so thoroughly ever-present that you become an almost invisible necessity, like air?

I love the comfort of that passage and I truly feel that in my own marriage, so maybe I was thinking of it all wrong. Last year wasn't easy with my husband's job loss and all, but in the end it all bonds us closer together and strengthens the intimacy between us.

Still, I am and always have been an adventure seeker, so a little excitement in my marriage is never a bad thing. So, I was thrilled that Feng Shui consultant Ann Drew Yu focused her February newsletter on this very topic. Here's the formula that Ann and her husband are using to bring "the butterfly feeling" back into their dates:

Manageable: Once-a-month

Unpredictable: The date activity has to be new - something you've never done.

Surprise element: You can't reveal the plans for the date to the other until you're pulling out of the driveway.

Taboo: No talking kids or finances allowed. Period.

Dress code: It's a date. Dress like it.

Shared responsibility: Alternate who's in charge. The person in charge also manages kid coverage.

I like it! Somewhere in between Jack Gilbert's definition of marriage and Ann Drew Yu's formula for butterflies, I think I know where happiness for me and my husband lies. It's always right there - we just need to be intentional about it.

Of course, this whole recent situation with my health helps put it all in perspective as well. My honey will be there holding my hand at the oncologist tomorrow and hopefully we'll be celebrating together after a successful surgery very soon. I hope I'm not in the infirmary too long, because I can't wait to see what he'll plan for our first mystery date!

Love Each Day

Nothing puts life into perspective like the word cancer.

Yesterday, about 4:30, I was at work trying to wrap things up before catching the 5:00 bus so I could run to a meeting to plan t-shirts for an event at the girls' school. My cell phone rang (it never rings) - it was a number I didn't recognize. To the best of my shock-blurred memory, here's how the conversation went...

Me: Hi, this is Jen.

Doc: Um, hi Jen, this is Dr. Nagel calling. Um, remember when I did your pelvic exam and thought that your uterus felt enlarged? Well, after looking at the ultrasound, it looks like I was wrong. What I actually was feeling was a mass on your ovary.

Me (completely stunned): I can't believe it took you a week to call me about this. I had already written it off as no-news-is-good-news.

Doc: Well, it takes a couple days to read the ultrasound and then it goes to my inbox and I was out... Anyway, we need to take out that ovary right away. We need to schedule surgery. The mass is solid and it is not fibroidal.

Me: So you think I have ovarian cancer?

Doc: Well [long pause] we don't know anything yet. There are other things it could be. There is no fluid in your pelvis, so that's good. But we need to get it out right away. I will have someone call you to set up surgery. Actually, you know, maybe we should have an oncologist do the surgery so we don't have to open you up twice if we need to test your lymph nodes and such as well. Do you want me to have an oncologist do the surgery?

Me: I don't know. I need you to tell me what I need to do.

Doc: I'm going to refer you to the oncologist. I think they should do the surgery.

Me: I'm freaking out.

Doc: Don't worry. Someone will call you tomorrow to schedule. Don't worry.

Me: Ok, thank you. Good bye.

Then I fell apart. I cried and feared the worst right there at work where five minutes before I had been stressing about a tight deadline for a web project and joking with my boss about the firehose of work that seems to be hitting our office lately.

Here's where my mind went: when I used to spend my time worrying about illness and death, my fear was always that I would have my life cut short and miss out on something. But now I have everything that I ever really wanted and all I can think is that I don't want my kids to miss out on having a mom.

So, I have an appointment with a gyn oncologist at the U of M next week. I don't know the verdict on the big bad C word yet, so I just need to hold out hope. But its funny how quick my priorities have shifted into order.

I feel very blessed to have a waterpark overnight planned with the family this weekend. I can't think of anything better than 24 hours straight of kid smiles.

I guarantee not a minute of the time before my appointment will go unappreciated. And I intend to enjoy many millions of minutes more after that...

One Small Change: Disposable Utencils

It is time to return to The One Small Change project for month number two. First, my follow up on my January change - turning off the water when I brush my teeth. This was no problem at all. To my delight (and personal horror) I discovered that I was the only person with this bad practice in my family. Hey, at least I taught my kids right! But, I think I can comfortably say that I have easily turned this change into a habit for myself as well.

Teeth brushing aside, the first month of One Small Change was very eye opening for me. Through reading the posts of other bloggers I realized just how much room for improvement my family still has. It has also made be sadly aware of how many others seem to not be concerned at all.

One of the areas where I am most bothered is at the office. The wasted paper and use of disposables is beyond the point of crazy. It seems to be the way of downtown and it is sickening.

I've been trying to do my part long before One Small Change by always using glass coffee mugs, my water bottle and a glass plate for my food and drink. But I somehow was blind to the fact that I was still using plastic utencils.

A little rough math revealed that I have used about 3,000 plastic forks in my career. Yikes!!

So, there's my change for February. I brought in my set of silverware which I will use going forward.

This will be simple when I bring my food from home, which I am trying to do more often. The harder part will be remembering to tell the restaurants that I don't need a fork when I get take-out. I think I'll have to keep it out on my desk for a while so I think of it before I head out to grab lunch.

I will keep you posted on change number two.

What will your change be this month? I'd love to hear...