Why I like L'Occitane

Yesterday I had to go to L'Occitane to buy a few goodies. Most of their products contain only natural, if not organic, ingredients, so I had an interesting conversation with the sales woman about the advantages and disadvantages of using, and selling such products.

While we were chatting she gave me some samples for my mom to try, and asked me if my mom was about her age, mid 40's. Well, I'm not going to disclose that kind of information here, but I gave the woman the general age bracket so she could determine what might be best for her. She asked me if my mom had similar skin to mine, (she does) and then asked me what products I used. I told her, and then inquired if I should maybe consider using an anti-aging product.... she laughed out loud!!

With a slightly more serious look she then asked me if she could ask me how old I was.

"Thirty." I told her. It's the first time I've been asked since the decade changed for me, and it felt pretty good to say it, I must admit.

What followed felt even better.

"You're THIRTY???????" She responded, "Really????!!!! You have AMAZING skin. No wrinkles. NONE. You're really THIRTY?????? Just look at those pores- what pores!! You can't even see them. Thirty?!!"

Yes, but I was smiling like a little kid for hours after that encounter, and I must have looked like I was five the way I gleefully walked down the street swinging my bag full of goodies. Age really is only a number.... but since genetics do play a role...

Thanks for the amazing DNA, Mom!!

Eat, Clean? and Be Merry!

In my childhood, Saturday morning's were reserved for two things, cartoons and chores. Almost as soon as we had climbed out of bed, my sister and I, comfy in our p.j's, would cozy up in front of the t.v. for a couple of hours. Every half an hour we took turns to decide what cartoon we'd cast our bright eyes upon next. Sometimes this had to be refereed by our Mom, but mostly it was a peaceful affair. We'd eat our breakfast, laugh and be merry for a few hours while enjoying the colourful, visual feast displayed on our television.

Inevitably and all too soon, noon would arrive and the fun cartoons would be replaced by boring adult shows. We'd try unsuccessfully to feign interest, but Mom always knew better and we'd be ushered into the kitchen to eat some lunch before the next part of our day began. Chores.

I didn't ever really mind helping out. The fact was, if we didn't get our chores done, we couldn't go out to play with our friends. And the sooner our chores were completed, the sooner we'd be jumping rope, or riding our bikes outside in the sunshine. Complaining took time, which meant valuable minutes with friends were being wasted.

We didn't really have that many chores to do. Our bedrooms had to be tidied, and we each had one bathroom to clean. My sister usually got to vacuum the carpets, and I vacuumed and mopped the floors. I remember feeling like I always got the harder chores. The ones that took longer. But I think back now, and realize that my sister just did her job faster.

It's not that I dilly dallied around. It's not even that I didn't like cleaning. I actually loved the finished product, all neat and tidy. Yet I always felt on the verge of tears or anger while I was cleaning. I compensated, as children often do, by making up a special game for cleaning the bathroom, called 'Clean or Dry?' Which basically meant that the sink or toilet had to be so clean and spotless and shiny that when I brought my Dad, he always seemed to be the lucky chosen one, to inspect my work he wouldn't be able to tell if it was really wet or dry. He always guessed, "Wet?" and I'd squeal with delight and laughter and make him feel how dry the polished sink actually was.

wet or dry?!

Fast forward a few, okay more like 15 or 20, years. I'm cleaning at the coach house. I start off in a wonderful mood- excited to get everything neat and tidy. By the end I am a crazy, grumpy, irritable wreck- reminiscent of some irrational woman experiencing a round of the worst PMS ever. I couldn't understand where this rage was coming from. The sink was glistening, all of the dishes were done, and the floors were gleaming. I was finished!! Shouldn't the fact that everything was tidy result in elation? Yet here I was, a sweating, furious mess, trying to body check the vacuum back into our tiny closet.

I decided to sit down and thumb through a magazine. It can only be described as serendipitous that the magazine opened to an article about cleaning. On the pages in front of me a Mother was telling the story of her son. A wonderful, happy child who was keen to help out, who was always laughing. Yet, every week after she had finished cleaning her home, something changed in her son. He became cranky. Irritable. He whined and cried. After months of this, a light went off. Could it be the cleaning products that were making her child behave so uncharacteristically? She went out and purchased a non-chemical floor cleaner, came home, and cleaned the floors.

She looked over at her son- who was still contently playing with his toys. After a few days, all of her old products had been replaced by new, chemical free, biodegradable versions. Her son was a happy camper. No more unexplainable out-bursts!

Well. I closed the magazine on my lap, and thought for a few minutes. Could this be where my cleaning rage had come from? It was resolved in my mind. I would conduct my very own experiment, with me as the guinea pig. The next time I was out I would purchase a few new cleaning items.

A few days later I went to the store and found the cleaning isle. Lined up side by side, immaculately presented, was a whole row of various natural cleaners. To my surprise they weren't much more expensive than the products I had used before. They all looked so... inviting! Promises of fresh lemon scent- from actual lemons! Toilets that sparkled and smelt like oranges. Was it possible? How much extra elbow grease would it take to achieve the results I wanted. After far too much time reading and sniffing the various products, I finally settled on a few bottles. Forest fresh pine for the toilet, orange reminiscent of fresh orange juice for the bathtub, chamomile and aloe for the dishes. Sweet, succulent lemon for the floors.

I waited for a day that I was feeling exceptionally cheery and energetic. I didn't wait long!! Armed with my recyclable bottles, I was ready. I scrubbed, polished and danced with my mop gliding across the floor, happy like a clam, for 2 hours. The house was immaculate. It smelled like fresh citrus, but delicately. There were no over powering chemical perfumes lingering in the air. The toilet actually gleamed and glinted like the cartoon animation on a commercial character's smile. I could almost hear the chimes tingle in perfect time with the sparkle. "Ching" My toilet seemed to agree. I rinsed the mop and placed it back in the storage closet, no body checking required.

"Ching!"

We now use natural products for everything. Laundry, dishes, toilet and shower, furniture and floor. They often last longer than my old products because so much less product is required. Although, I am using them more often, because who doesn't love a sparkling home?! And the best thing- no extra elbow grease required!!

i want a desk

now we just need to find one.......... and then work miracles to find a space to put it!! I've started writing again, but it is difficult to write without a proper place. And I don't like writing at the kitchen table. It's not the right size, and when I'm sitting there I just want to eat all day. So. The search for a desk begins, and the writing continues on the big chair. I'm an old school writer, apparently. I like the feeling of writing fiction with a pen and paper.

It's been all things creative here for the past week. As well as writing, I picked up my sketch book and have been doing some drawing with some sketching felts. Chickadee's and some other random ideas have all been sketched.

Practicing has been going well. I took a bit of a break for a while, gasp, I probably shouldn't admit it- as taking breaks are often frowned upon in my profession. It's fun to be playing, and I am thinking about scheduling a recital in May or maybe early/mid August.

Other crazy ideas have also been flying around in my brain. I'm thinking about going back to school, just thinking right now, and maybe doing something non-music related..... we shall see. I'm NOT saying that I'm stopping music. I'm just thinking about getting some schooling in an area that I could do while having a music career. I like to do too many things!! I'll post more about that if and when things get a little more serious!!

It's getting to be time for a haircut. It's January, which means that I am fighting the colour battle again. Blonde is beckoning....... maybe just some highlights?? Probably just a trim. It's getting long. When it's wet, it is mid back. That is CRAZY long for me. I think the longest it's been since I was in grade 3!!

I'm tired.

My sweatpants are calling my name.

Oh yeah! Mary- I dreamed about you last night!! We were in some forested place, teaching at a music camp. We were finished teaching for the day and were catching up on each other's lives. It was dusk when we were suddenly surrounded by mountain lions/cougars (just 2 of them). Luckily there was a good climbing tree near us, and we scaled up the tree and into the back door of the building near us!!