The STUFF Sisters

Moving Inside

Just two or three days ago, I moved the geraniums from their roost outdoors to their winter home indoors. I never thought I would be one of those people who harbor plants indoors, but I can’t break myself of this color.

I can’t imagine why.

They spent the winter with us indoors last year and brightened the days. Especially the days I spent in the kitchen at the table near them. Slippers on. Magazines at the ready. Child and husband still sleeping. The light flooded in from the south and made the pinks pinker. Or maybe that was just my mood adjusting.

These photos were taken in June before the summer battled them into not blooming much until late August. Both of us tired and fatigued, I watered them and waited. They gave me a grand fall, and I look forward to a bright winter.

If you have a summer favorite you bring indoors, I’d love to hea

In a few of these anecdotes, the telescope saw limited initial use and then it was simply incorporated into the home’s décor—gathering dust in a corner. It became obvious to me that what the family could have benefited from more would have been a spotting scope. And, in all of the cases, the spotting scope wasn’t even on the purchase radar. By default, everyone thinks the telescope is the best way to explore the heavens and it truly is, but the spotting scope presents a great and versatile alternative. Let’s look at the buying choices between spotting scopes and telescopes so that, if you are in the market for yourself, the family, or a space-exploring enthusiastic youngster, you can get something that everyone will enjoy and something from which all will enjoy a great deal of use.

Before we dive in: if you arrived here knowing you want a telescope, but are unsure what type to get, click on over to our telescope buying guide and enjoy the view!

TL;DR
Spotting scopes offer unmatched versatility and durability for primarily terrestrial viewing (think birding) and some astronomical viewing, here you can get the best spotting scope under 500. Telescopes give you a superior view of the heavens, but are less portable, less durable, and slightly more difficult to use than a spotting scope.

Portability
While there are certainly small and portable telescopes, the spotting scope is relatively lightweight and designed for use in the field. Many come with “C-thru” cases (or they are available separately) that protect the scope’s body from wear and scratches while allowing you to use the scope, try the best spotting scope under 300. Larger telescopes can be boxed up and taken out into a dark sky area—often the big telescopes will be transported in two or three separate boxes—they are definitely not designed around portability in the same way a spotting scope is designed.

r about it.

Instagram #2

I wrote recently that I am pretty smitten with Instagram. Here is my second Instagram photo blog. These images are from our summer vacation to the beach in Florida. Sorry it took a while. My life kind of ran amok recently.

Sow

As part of our spring break and in honor of the lovely spring weather we have in Kansas City right now, my daughter and I planted a handful of seeds.

We were on an outing to get a gasket for our stove – which they didn’t have – and found ourselves shopping the spring seed displays. I picked up three packets. She picked up two.

When it was time to check out, she said she wanted to buy the two packets she picked with her own spring break money.

While driving home, I explained that the seeds would grow perennial plants and explained what that meant. Her response was, “That is amazing. I bought more than one plant that will come back every year for only two dollars and thirty seven cents. Now, that was a good way to spend my money.”

I think we planted more than a handful of seeds.

Tentacles

The holiday season brings out the best in me. Well, in my ability to handle many, many things.

The holiday season brings out the best in me. Well, in my ability to handle many, many things. As a self diagnosed “Type A Control Freak”, I enjoy this time of year. My only regret is that, with so many places to be and things to get done, I feel like I need more arms to hold it all together.

Which brings me to this photo:

I have very little time to read when my day ends, and reading is one of my favorite things in the world. My husband will account for the fact that, right now, there are very few minutes between the shower, me hitting the sheets, and me closing my eyes. Like everyone I know, my days in December are long, multi-faceted and demanding.

Two days ago, I found time to look through one of my favorite monthly treasures – National Geographic – and found this photo. It left me mesmerized and silent. Look at all the subtle colors. Look at the peacefulness.

I hope to feel like this in January. Contained. With all my tentacles in tact.

p.s. This photo must be credited to Jeffrey de Guzman. He captured it on a nightime dive in the Philippines. The octopus has found a place of rest inside a broken bottle. This little bit of magic was not part of an article but merely a favorite of the editors from photos received from readers. Check out December’s National Geographic Magazine here.

I Wish All My Ex’s Lived in Texas

I was out last week with a group of friends to celebrate a 40th birthday. The birthday girl’s husband had reserved a private room at a local bar, opened the bar to us, and made sure the snacks were abundant. I didn’t try any of the snacks. I know this because I was happily keeping my custom-printed cup full of cocktails instead. It was gearing up to be a fantastic night.

When the timer on our private room expired, we moved upstairs for the band. At this point the remaining group was a heaping handful of close friends, all married, all spouses accounted for, and me. The single woman. I am used to being the only single person in a group of married people. I show up to most social events alone. I don’t bring a “crutch” date (another single girl friend or a married person that is out without her husband). I just go everywhere alone. I mean let’s face it, folks: I am alone when it comes to couples events.

So…we were – how should I say this politely – loose with drink. And ready for some dance therapy. Cue birthday girl to the stage! Said birthday girl drags “the posse” of girl friends with her. And oh, what fun. I love to dance. Music lifts me right out of the world where we are all firmly planted, and I escape into the rhythm, music and vibe. And that was where I was delightfully lost when a man took my hand and helped me off the stage.

Then I found myself standing face-to-face with my EX-HUSBAND! No shit! I can’t make this kind of tragic crap up. He is saying something. My friends are staring and starting to think…who’s the guy? (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge). I pull my ex away from the speakers to hear what in the world he would want to say to me at the very bar where he spent an outrageous amount of our money drinking while he was cheating on me and tearing our marriage to shreds. But I am hopelessly curious (and stupid).

Yep, you guessed it. I got the “I really, really miss you. I always loved you” drunken-goo-goo-eyed pick-up line. I was speechless. If you know me, “speechless” is very, very, very rare. I stuttered. My knees felt weak. I shouted over the band, “Where is your wife?” He didn’t answer. He just repeated the line about missing me and loving me. I took a breath, regrouped my courage, and resorted to a one-liner to cover up my devastation. “Of course you miss me, I am fabulous.” I walked off.

Don’t be impressed. I immediately marched outside, where it took me 20 minutes, two friends, a strong drink, 2 cigarettes, and a face full of streaming tears to get my ass ready to return to the dance floor. When I returned to the dance floor, I closed my eyes and let the music carry me away.

What is remarkable about this story is that it is not remarkable at all. This happens to people all the time.

The week before, my ex-lover showed up at STUFF during our Wings of Hope event to say “hello”. He had been driving by and thought it would be a good idea to stop and catch me in front of my store (where I can’t walk away). And then he came back a second time to bring me food he had been cooking all day with his wife, kids and close family friends.

And, if that wasn’t enough, two years ago at the holidays I was dating a man (who chose to compare me to “new car smell” and classify me as “one of his obsessions” on Facebook after I asked for a break). This man has called, emailed and come to the store multiple times over the last few weeks looking for me. At least he offered help and shopped.

Casey Simmons driving her FJ. — going forward...never straight...at the wheel.

These men that I shared my heart, my mind, my body, and a small part of my soul with never once stopped to think about me. Not once. They just marched all over my personal space, my feelings, and my life. They showed no respect for me, my family, or my business. I don’t seek them out. I haven’t played games. I haven’t posted veiled (or direct) references on Facebook about them. I have left them alone.

“The holidays” make men and women want to couple. I get it. I feel its powerful pull every day in November and December, too. After the first week of January it fades, and I fall back into my natural state. I too want to fall in love again. I want a husband and a big crazy combined mess of a family. But, in the meantime, I want to avoid stomping on the very people that I cared for deeply…and I want to avoid them stomping all over me.

These ridiculous happenings have left me sad, frustrated, exposed, raw and lonely. But, they have also left me proud that I have the courage to stand alone, even when I don’t want too.

A Spring-Fall Girl is Born

I have called myself a Summer Girl for many, many, many years. I always loved the heat. But I think age, wisdom and my outrageous power bills have brought me to me knees. I am now re-inventing myself as a Spring-Fall Girl. This is your offical notice. Please update all of your beliefs about me accordingly.

P1030478 — Please note that our door is wide open, our hair is down, I am wearing sleeves, and there is no sweat on our faces.

PS…This does not preclude my being a Beach Girl in any season. Weather and geography are two very different things.

Pursue Good Stuff goes to Florida

Here is the PURSUE GOOD STUFF travel album from my recent trip to Florida. My sister recently posted an album from Colorado. Like she said, life is about pursuing what is good, ALL that is good. Remember you are not passive…you can pursue good stuff today. That is my goal for the day.

Kayaking in Florida - PURSUE GOOD STUFF — An evening kayak trip.

: Explore by kayak.

: I great place to sit and watch the surf.

PURSUE GOOD STUFF and Fresh Peaches — Fresh Georgia peach. Yum.

: This is the life.

: Find a place to PURSUE GOOD STUFF.

: Beauty is everywhere.

: Sift through your choices in life.

: Boats come is all shapes and sizes.

: Keep your eyes on the horizon.

: Little doesn’t mean small.

: Make friends.

: There is strength in numbers.

: Spark ideas.

Grilled Shrimp with PURSUE GOOD STUFF — Eat well. Grilled Florida shrimp...fresh catch.

: Fresh Florida Mussels – OMG – this is some goooooood stuff folks.

: Steam up the room.

: Walk barefoot in the sand every chance you get.

: White sand, sunshine and nothing planned.

: And, never forget to play.

I will pursue good stuff…today.

Summer Blues

I am on “re-entry” from vacation. I was missing the bright blues of Florida today. I found them cheering me along from all over the store. Here are few.

: Summer blues surround me at work.

Rain Boots

I really, really, really want these boots. And, it is raining a bunch this week, so I think I could justify the purchase. But, I am on a very tight budget this month so I will have to put them on the April wish list instead.

Oooh…April Showers!

Colors of Winter

I have said for years that snow makes the Midwest much prettier in winter. The other three seasons of the year are beyond pretty in and around Kansas City, but winter can be gray, brown, bleak and dismal without the cover of snow.

I found our blizzard two weeks ago delightful in what it left behind for us to look at. It coated every branch, blade and rooftop. Even where the snow blew it from those perches, it took it to where it could form drifts and deep piles. The nights were clear, and the snow shone rather blue and silver in our urban setting. It reminded me of rides I took between Boonville and Jefferson City, Missouri, while a child.

My grandparents lived in each of those towns, and the journey between them at the holidays from my vantage point in the back of my parents’ car was amazing. We took a two-lane road that lead us through small farming communities and mile after mile of family farms. The snow whooshed and swirled across fields barren of their row crops and formed the most wonderful castles of snow on the shoulders at the north and west sides of the road as the wind worked its magic through the taller weeds and fences. It could look like icing dripping down the side of a cake or bubble bath left to swirl and foam in a filling tub.

Once, on a rare trip between the two places with my grandfather, he pulled over so that I could see just how tall and deep those castles were. When I stepped down into the ditch that makes the edge of most secondary roads in Missouri, I was engulfed in snow to my midsection. I remember vividly being elated and wishing I could tunnel deeper into it right then. A big, great hand pulled me up and out and back to the waiting car. One word describes that experience to this day: fantastic.

I like snow. I can even, most days, embrace cold temperatures. Both make me happy, but I’ve mentioned the cold part in earlier blogs.

What I have not liked in the past week is what the slightly warmer temperatures have given us – huge melting piles of snow and, sticking out of it, miscellaneous detritus carried to the pile by snow plows. The piles aren’t so much melting as looking like they are experiencing atrophy with a touch of gangrene. The piles are black and gray and ugly. Some have even taken on the appearance of that lovely landscaping folly of the 1970s – lava rock. Not our best look.

And the warmer temperatures this early in the winter game make me worry that the flowers and trees will start a journey to spring that will be cut short by what I am sure will still be a bit of winter.

I have always stayed warm and hopeful for spring by surrounding myself with great colorful scarves, socks, and the occasional brightly-colored sweater. I’m still saving my money for a once-in-a-lifetime sweater from the Oslo Sweater Shop. My retail research leads me every year to their website, the Gorsuch catalogue, and, sometimes, L.L.Bean. I am still building in my head the perfect sweater. Is it a cardigan? Is it a pullover? Is it tunic length? I’m getting close…

All I know it that I will be wearing it when my son and my niece and I tunnel our way into a monster snow mound on a cold winter day within the next few years. The snow plows have been building a great one near our public library on the Plaza, but I’m keeping my eye out for one formed by nature that looks like the one I keep near my heart, on a back road in Missouri not too far from home.

Sloane