Things I Sent To Meredith: I WANT A BEAN FEAST edition

April 15, 2009 § 2 Comments


Every once in a while I go crazy.  More often than not I stay that way for months and months.  But seriously.  I like to tell myself and others, that I am not a materialistic, shallow, dog in the purse shopaholic.  I like to think that I am secure in my knowledge that in the end, the great earrings I want from Target for 24.00 won’t mean anything and that I’ll really just treasure the memory of a night at home eating plain rice, saving money.  But then I realize that I have to be honest with myself and admit that I believe with all my heart that my life and the lives of those around me would be vastly improved by the acquisition of a hammock.

The hush hush word on the street is that we will be moving this year to a home with a pool and an expansive, tree covered patio. My husband has been informed that our first purchase after moving into said home will be a hammock.  Ever since I was a child, I’ve been drawn to the womb like feeling of laying in a hammock and having it curl and bend up around you, swinging JUST A BIT in the breeze.  And if you have a comfy pillow and blanket and you can fall asleep? Well, gosh darn it son, you’ve got yourself an afternoon!  [In fact, if I may divulge  little secret ‘ultimate dreamworld fantasy’ of mine, I’d have to say it would be to have a hammock installed inside my home, thick with padding and pillows and blankets, that i could camp out in and watch t.v. or read or sleep for hours, days, WEEKS on end.] 

But wait, what happens when your nap is over, you’ve taken a swim, and the cicadas come out while the sun goes down?  What do you do when the sky goes from brilliant crayon blue to pale peach and lavender, the first stars appearing like pin pricks behind the trees?  THAT’S WHEN YOU HAVE YO’SELF A CAMPFIRE!


I think it says something about my astrology-stuff that as much as I love water, I love fire.  I am FASCINATED by fire.  I love to just stare at it.  Nothing brings me to a more zen like quiet happy than sitting with friends around a roaring fire.  I love the smell of it, the flickering colors from white to blue to yellow to orange.  I love how spent coals ripple with heat, how flames run over logs almost like water.  In a dream world I’d live in a Mountain Lodge on a small lake with a large stone fireplace, open on two sides, where I could write books and “get to fixin’ supper before the boys get back from the cattle drive” or something like that.  Note to self: Do they drive cattle through the Adirondacks? Research, edit, amend dreams. And so the husband has been informed that the SECOND purchase upon moving to the new house will be the self contained outdoor firepit around which we will gather and sing songs of comfort and joy.

But all of that is in the future…months, seasons away.  If I know what you’re thinking it’s, “but what can I buy you TODAY, Jess?”

So here.  I’ve been packing my wist with jewelry even though I rarely spend more than 5.99 on Cherokee earrings at Target. If you don’t have a Wist I highly recommend it, particularly if you’re someone who finds the receiving of wonderful gifts to be an important part of a delicious breakfast. Its like an Amazon wishlist without the homophobic bias and you’re not restricted to only one website’s items.  This ring from Plum & Sage  called out to me in a little tiny fairy voice and batted its eyes at me in a coy, fairly inexpensive way.


Ever since I was hugely and almost obscenely pregnant, my fingers have been irreversably embiggened, and my original engagement and wedding band don’t fit.  I call this a “pregnancy metamorphosis”, you may call it “unfettered weight gain”, as long as you don’t say it to my face.  I’m sensitive.  But I love wearing rings, so I’m always looking for a new wedding ring that sort of speaks to me on an emotional level or has a big giant diamond on it.  Brian bought me a gorgeous ring from Pandora for Mother’s day two years ago that I wore as a wedding ring for a while, but for some reason it my made my finger flake and itch and turn a unique shade of gray/green.  Never a good sign.  So I just throw this ring out there for all to see, with a little mention that Mother’s Day for 2009 is on May 10th! (one day after David Gahan’s birthday…these are the things my brain holds on to for dear life).

I used to make up wish lists all the time.  Long, elaborate lists, very specific, detailed.  For a long time in my tween/teen years I consistently asked for a Cockatoo for my birthday, Christmas, anything at all.  I believe I also asked for a diamond ring many times, a ferret,a redecorated bedroom in Peach and Seafoam Green (a CLASSIC color combo in ’86).  I honestly felt that these things would improve my bizarre (and constantly evolving bizarrely) life.  Why, who wouldn’t want to commit to taking care of a loudmouth bird for seventy years?  I get huffy when I have to take the dog out three times a day.

But these days, I find that I really can’t come up with things for a wishlist.  Not because I don’t want gifts (OH MAN, DON’T MISTAKE: I WANT THE GOODIES), but because I’m really so happy with anything lately.  I really am the easiest person to buy for.  Remember that scene in Splash! when he buys Madison a gift and she just kisses and cuddles the box and says “It’s beautiful, I love it, thank you.”  and then he tells her to open it?  That’s me.  I just love the whole process of gift giving as a construct…and so really, what it boils down…..






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§ 2 Responses to Things I Sent To Meredith: I WANT A BEAN FEAST edition

  • Meredith says:

    OH MAN. I am so torn right now. Do I scream with joy that someone else shares my love of Splash??? Or do I faint with desire at those UNBELIEVABLE VASES. WHAAAAAT.

    Also: if I don’t have a job by the time you move, can I live in a tent in your backyard? It sounds awesome there.

  • diane reid says:

    In response to your hammock plan: I have one that someone gave me a long, long time ago…so long that I cannot seem to remember who or why. I’ve been schlepping it around for years, staring wistfully at the box every time I moved into yet another non-hammock supporting abode. But we finally moved into a place last month where there are two perfect trees for hangin’ a hammock. And up it went. I almost cried when I climbed into it. I’m willing to bet you’ll do the same when it happens at your new pad. It’s a slice of heaven.

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