Letting go of expectation

I woke up with an urge to go exploring on Saturday. There's something about moving  that forces you to take note of all the nuances that you might have missed during your stay.

Living in Ohio the majority of my life I've spent most of my time between Dayton and Cincinnati. My parents were born and raised in Cincinnati. Dad grew up in Reading and Mom grew up in Anderson Township.

We traversed back and forth each week between cities. At times I wasn't sure which one to call "home."

As I grew older the trips to Cincinnati became fewer and fewer. It wasn't until 7 years ago I decided to pursue my doctorate at the University of Cincinnati that I fell in love with this great city all over again.

Cincy was on my my mind when I awoke. We love to go to the market on Saturday mornings. There's something about buying fresh and local that makes getting out of a warm, cozy bed on a day-off that much better. We decided break tradition and try something new. We decided to explore the Findlay Market located in the Over-The-Rhine National Historic District. So glad we did.

Findlay's Market is Ohio's oldest surviving Municipal Market. First impression of the market is a step back in time. The market is dripping with authenticity and for a brief moment I feel as if I'm living metropolitan in Ohio. The periphery of the market is lined with unique vendors selling their goods while the central portion of the market displays fine local meats and foods. The architecture creates the perfect escape to daydream of a market that once was full of hustle and bustle. Where, at one time, people wandered purposefully to buy their daily needs, neighbors knew one another and vendors knew their customers by name. Today we would call that the grocery and how I wish that customer service and social experience still existed. It was a great daydream over a hot bowl of Pho.


In the Waiting Line from Zero 7 on Myspace.

As satisfying as Findlay's Market was we were craving more exploration. We were already on the move so we decided to dig deeper. We headed over to the historic district of O'Bryonville. 

Years ago Dave and I worked for a Media Agency in Mt. Lookout. Occasionally on a lunch break I would head over to O'Bryonville to a store called Indigenous. 

Fortunately for me (and everyone else) Indigenous is still thriving. It's a handcrafted gallery of more than 150 local and and regional artists. The choices are plentiful and include pottery, jewelry, art  class, stained glass, wood, metal, fiber arts, prints and more. 

While at Indigenous I fell in love with felt artwork by a local artist named Sarah Miller. While checking out we learned that her work was being featured at a local art festival called Maker's Fest, being held at Washington Park. Our Saturday adventure wasn't meant to end quite yet.

We ventured back to Over-the-Rhine and the festival was a beautiful display of local artistry. I found several artists who's work deserved to be highlighted. For more information about their these artists please click on the L&M Co-operative tab above. You will find links to their sites and Etsy shops in this section.

I started Saturday morning with the expectation of a single adventure, Findlay's Market.  Letting go of all expectations that day led to a true adventure.

The colors of transition

The weekends for the past 6 months have been all about transition. Cate had been sick with rheumatic fever and making the leap to a new home and new possibilities seemed difficult, if not impossible. I think I was craving, for the first time in my life, consistency. 

That word drives me crazy. Consistency, to me, is equivalent to boring and mundane. Inconsistency, however, is full of possibilities and spontaneity.

I wanted it, though. I wanted to be at home. I wanted boring and safe. It sounded like a luxury. The spring had brought on too much spontaneity and too many possibilities. It was time to settle down.

Dave was starting his new job in Wisconsin and it was decided that the girls and I would stay behind in order to figure out how to make the transition. Transition meant we had to change. Change our home, doctors, school...everything. It all seemed overwhelming and lacking in color. Where I once saw the world in vibrant, luscious color it was as if my world had turned grey. Ok, so most people call that depression but I was in denial. I didn't want any part of it and I was going to resist the change as long as I possibly could. 

We traveled to Wisconsin last weekend to take a look at the new house, visit the school and get acquainted with our new home. While visiting the Madison Farmer's Market on Saturday morning it was if someone had flipped the switch. Colors came flooding back to me. It was a rainy, overcast day but the beauty of that market was impossible to ignore. I knew I was home.