Author: ferylfiles

Bigger Than Me

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About a week and a half ago, I was given an extraordinarily generous gift of jewelry making supplies. I kid you not when I say I was gobsmacked. Clearly, I write when the emotions are heavy or hard, but I want to also make a point of writing when things are joyous and good and heart-overflowing-the-brim good. This gift is exactly like that.

I’ve been making beaded jewelry since I was an early teenager in Athens, Ohio. My favorite little bead store, Beads-N-Things, run by Joey and Phil, has had a warm place in my heart since. The owners taught me much about jewelry-making, the names and nature of gemstone, and jazz, goodness, how to calculate sales tax on a purchase, and how not to put the bad clasps back in with the good ones. And endless patience when the container of beads fell on the floor. Great memories and a sharing of knowledge makes my heart go on nostalgia overload.

Making jewelry and selling it started out as a way to pay for my bead habit. As my skill and technique improved, and my grown-up needs got bigger, sometimes selling jewelry allowed me to have a few extra bucks for extras or essentials. I remember bringing a binder full of baseball card sleeves filled with earrings to work and passing it around to the gals in the office. Sometimes the buy a pair get a pair of sale occurred the last week of the month before payday.

Jewelry sales led me to the farmers market and even a bricks and mortar shop of my own for nearly five years. When Bryan was sick it was the way I could bring in a little extra income for our family and frankly a way for folks to help out when we all felt so damned helpless.

In more recent years, I’ve leaned heavily on my jewelry sales to subsidize my philanthropy–our Mom’s nursing scholarship, donations to the YWCA and others. It’s in that spirit that I receive this tremendous gift. I’ve spent the last week or so making a necklace and earrings set that I hope to raffle off for the Blue Mountain Humane Society (a favorite non-profit of the gift giver and who doesn’t love the good work they do?) I used sterling silver wire, chain, and findings along with an assortment of gemstones (the Seahawk colors are totally by accident, I promise.)

100% of the proceeds go to the Blue Mountain Humane Society.
Rules and info:
The raffle goes through 10/31/2026.
Raffle “ticket” is $5 each with no limit on the number of tickets you can get.
US participants and shipping only.
Use https://venmo.com/u/FerylGal_1 to pay for raffle tickets. I will do regular updates throughout the month.
Drawing will occur on 11/01/2026. Set will be shipped out/delivered that week.
Message me with any questions.

If jewelry is not your thing, please share this post and information with someone who might be so inclined. Let’s raise money for the doggos and kittehs in this valley who need good homes and for the organization that takes care of them until they get there. And help me pay forward this extraordinary gift that is so much bigger than me.

Musings

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A year ago today, on his birthday, my nephew came to live with me. He had experienced some pretty heavy life-changing circumstances, I was still navigating grief, but I think we both needed this time to push each other, to grow, to learn. It’s not always been easy and he’d agree with me. We’re similar so we can butt heads, but I think maybe he’s learned a thing or two from his old Aunt Becci. I know I sure have learned from him.

If we are lucky, people can be positive catalysts for change in our life. I know that I would not have pursued scuba or worked so hard to do an art show or even been as open to dating, if I hadn’t had the persuasion/encouragement/goading from my nephew. I’m thankful for it even if sometimes I get irritated.

I know the next chapter, where he’ll be in his own place, is coming sooner than later. We’re both glad about that, but I can also say how thankful I am to have had the time to learn more about him and me. And I will miss our daily conversations when that happens. Of course that has me curious about the future.

Recently, in conversation with my bonus mom, I talked about frustrations of feeling stuck. Sometimes the consistent, familiar rhythms of life seem peaceful and other times like a prison. I don’t know why that is, but she offered some perspective, maybe I’m confusing stuck with rest, which I have a fretful time doing. It’s been a busy year with activities, fundraisers, gardening, creating and selling art, meeting new people, enduring heartache, and navigating loss all while working 40 hours a week and maintaining a home. Maybe it’s time to step back and rest just a little.

Or maybe move to Australia for a year. I don’t know.

“…and I’m not sorry.”

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My friend tells a story of when her son was a little boy. He had a rough go in the classroom setting because he was wiggly, energetic, and probably smarter than 90% of the school, including the staff and faculty. One day he was fed up and gave the entire classroom a piece of his mind, ending with the comment “…and I’m not sorry.” I chuckle because I can imagine his impish face and sparkling eyes as he said it. It’s another one of those phrases that often comes to my mind, applied to any number of life circumstances.

This summer I met someone. Someone really smart, kind, funny, warm, electric, dynamic and seemingly very much enamored of me. It was the first time, truly, the very first time since Bryan that I have felt “home” with anyone. I can say without any reservation that I fell in love with him. And while, for reasons that baffle me, it hasn’t seemed to work out, I am so thankful for every minute. How could I not be?

My mama used to say love is never a waste. It changes us. It heals us. It makes us better people. And while heartbreak is a real effing pisser, I’m so glad I got to have this experience, got to meet and know someone extraordinary even if for a brief moment.

I fell in love. And I’m not sorry.

Oh Shit! Praise the Lord!

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This week, I received correspondence from Walla Walla University giving a full report on the memorial nursing scholarship my siblings and I set up in our Mom’s name explaining the total in the endowment (over $34k), how much the interest has spun off and how much was awarded to a student for the 2026-2027 school year ($1k). Included was a lovely thank you note from the student, too, thanking us for the financial help to their education–very heartfelt, very sweet.

I hadn’t been thinking about my Mom’s scholarship much recently. I’m finishing up an art show and looking to get a donation off to the Blue Mountain Action Council’s Food Bank fund here in the next week or so. My 16.5 year-old kitty is nearing her rainbow bridge time and I’m heart-stricken. Other life things have been shaking me up so I’ve kind of been in triage mode. And then there’s home maintenance, the other two cats, a full-time job, and trying to manage my garden, eat correctly, get enough sleep. The works.

The arrival of this update has me thinking about my Mom, of course. I wish I could talk to her about ALL the things. I wish I could get her counsel and her curiosity, her wisdom and humor. She was so smart and wise. She understood heartbreak better than anyone. And she looked for ways to consider other perspectives, the other person’s reasons for behavior. If I have any empathy, it’s because I learned it at her feet. A friend of mine recently said of her mom, “I am who I am because of her.” Yes. This.

My Mom was also hilarious. She wanted very much to be a follower of Christ, to lean into grace, forgiveness, and above all love. She was no saint, but she was such a good teacher. She was known to get speeding tickets, dings on the car in the parking lot from backing up without fully looking, or clipping a corner too sharp. In those moments, I can remember her saying “Oh shit!” followed by a purposeful “Praise the Lord!” She was trying to retrain her brain in real time to take a bad moment and still express gratitude. My teacher. My role model. And I think about those two statements joined together an awful lot because that’s pretty much how I experience life, that and a hearty chuckle afterward. Life’s difficulties definitely merit an Oh shit! now and then, but receiving the update about our Mom’s scholarship fund and so many other reasons for joy merit a Praise the Lord!

[If you enjoy these musings and you feel so inclined, you’re welcome to buy me a coffee or contribute to the art supplies fund: https://venmo.com/u/FerylGal_1 Thank you!]

“No, but it’s consistent.”

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The movie _What’s Up Doc_, the 1972 romcom with Barbara Streisand and Ryan O’Neal, has a scene near the end where a giant group of characters are in front of a very unamused judge. In the midst of an explanation, Dr. Howard Bannister asks “Is that clear?” To which the long-suffering judge replies “No, but it’s consistent.” I’m sure you have many lines from movies that come up as familial or friendly touchpoints–ways to keep connected on an idea in fun and meaninful ways. This was one of ours…”No, but it’s consistent.”

I’ve been thinking about consistency a lot lately. In conversation, I’ve reassured folks I care about that a behavior by someone else is not just directed at them, but an indicator of how that person is with everyone. Does it make sense always? No. But is it probably consistent? Yep. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, though. I hope to always be as consistently me as possible.

When in grief and heartache, I lean toward creation and connection. I hope not to dull my senses or avoid feelings, but to sit with them. Golly, that’s really not fun, but I’ve gotten good practice in the last four years. It’s not just in sorrow that I hope to be consistent, though. It’s also in my joy, the way I love full-tilt, heart on my sleeve, no reservations, all the way in. I don’t want to change that even if the side-effects aren’t always great. I don’t want experiences or circumstances to change my consistency or me. “Don’t go dark on me, Bob.”

Am I going to find the dirty joke in an inappropriate setting? Am I going to share what I have? Am I going to paint and dance in the kitchen and sob my eyes out and tell my sunflower “thank you for being beautiful?” Am I going to try to look at things from someone else’s perspective, to understand, to extend grace? Am I going to be occasionally thoughtless or careless with words or actions because I’m in a hurry or not fully thinking through the consequences? Yes to all of it. And when I lose, I also try not to lose the lesson.

[If you enjoy what you read here, you’re welcome to buy me a coffee or contribute to the paint fund here: https://venmo.com/u/FerylGal_1 ]