We’re entering the fourth month of our summer without purchasing new clothes.  We began in mid May, and now we only have a few weeks left to go.  I don’t think that my husband as thought about this challenge once.  It hasn’t really been that hard to resist the urge to buy new pieces of clothing for either of us like I thought it would be.

The longer this challenge continues, the more I want to keep it going.  Why not go a few more months?  Could we make it through the winter?

Picking up a new piece of clothing is so easy for anyone to do.  In your mind, does it seem like you’re always donating old clothing, too?  Maybe the rational to buy new clothes is: why not get something new if I like it and it’s at a great price?  Or if I got this item, could I be fashionable or classy?  Would people treat me differently if I wore that?  Could I put it in my closet where all those old things used to be?

My answer felt like it was yes too often.

hiking in perfectly acceptable clothes

I feel like I was always pretty rational about clothing purchases before – no brand names (except Ann Taylor Loft clearance rack) for me and good rain jackets for both of us.  Now I’m not so sure.

This experiment has been teaching me a lot these last few months:

1. Most people probably don’t know just how many clothes they already have.
2. When we only have access to a limited number of clothes, it turns out we think even less about what to wear and who cares.
3. Making a conscious effort to avoid clothing stores and departments raises self esteem.  You stop thinking about size and weight and comparing yourself to the women posing in pictures and other customers.
4. Bringing less stuff into the house makes my home – and thereby my life – feel so much simpler and less cluttered.
5. Clothes can last a really, really long time.

Right now, I feel like buying more clothes would be like buying more fresh cherries when we already have plenty in the fridge.  You all know what happens then.  We can’t resist eating the new cherries because they’re fresher and firmer.  The old cherries go bad and land in the trash.  Those older cherries were perfectly fine until we introduced the newer ones.

Many of you mentioned similar ideas about buying clothes when we talked about this subject last.  Some of you even considered jumping aboard.  How is it going?  Have any of you noticed anything different about your habits?  How about within yourselves?

You can’t help feeling mesmerized by the simple grace and attention to detail in Japanese traditions.  Just watching a traditional tea ceremony – a ceremony so intricate down to the exact movement of every finger – brings me such awe.  That’s why I just had to share a Japanese wedding with you today as we jump around the world each Friday with our collection of international weddings.

Martin and I are patiently awaiting the announcements of two dear Japanese women I met in high school and college so we can rush over to Japan to celebrate their big days.  (Of course, we’re also patiently waiting on a big lottery win to pay for airline tickets, too – so no rush, ladies!)

Like with many aspects of Japanese culture, many couples are choosing to have more Western-styled weddings with the black tuxes and long white dresses.  Not everyone, though.  Just look at these traditional wedding shots:

When I was in high school, I had the rare opportunity to go to Japan as an exchange student.  My host mom told me how sad their family was because one of her husband’s assistants was going to be leaving soon.  Being young and unworldly, I thought the girl was merely getting a job somewhere else.  So when I asked why, my host mom simply said, “She’s getting married.”

When Japanese women get married, they traditionally give up their careers and work hard to provide their husbands with comfortable homes and support.  It isn’t always the case, of course.  My other good friend is expected to take over the family business because she has no brothers.

Here you can see the wedding procession (and tourists in the back!).  The young bride holds hands with her mother who is dressed in a traditional kimono.

A lot of couples marry in the spring or fall.  They pick a Shinto, Christian, Buddhist, or non-religious style wedding – a decision that doesn’t necessarily match their own religion.  Much like in other countries, non-christian couples often marry in chapels and other such variations.

It’s pretty common for the wedding ceremony to include only close family and friends.  It’s the celebration afterward when the crowds pour in.  The traditional gift is money – nice, crisp bills without any creases.  And so true to Japanese style, the envelopes are all breathtaking and beautiful like this one:

The couple exchanges rings.  Everyone eats cake.  And of course like so many of Japan’s customs, detailed rituals lace the event (like drinking sake).  The couple sits higher than everyone as guests perform skits, sing congratulatory songs, and praise the couple.  It’s actually pretty common for both the bride and groom to change their outfits several times during the celebration.  Just take a look at this Japanese woman and her Australian husband:

So what do you say?  Want to start grabbing a few lottery tickets with us in hopes of crashing one of these amazing weddings?

Peek into all the international weddings our friends and family have shared on Making This Home (from Vienna to Romania) on the International Wedding Page.  Of course it includes our wedding, too!

(Images Flickr , goJapan, & Flickr)

Lucky for us (and the mailman), this is one move where we don’t need to change our mailing address.  Martin and I are leaving this “perfectly normal” house made out of tires for the week:

And we’re crashing in a bedroom at the back of a hangar full of airplanes (and unfortunately, airplane smells):

One of the conditions of living in a furnished home for a short period is being flexible.  The owner has guests coming.  They planned to come here way back when we were planning on moving to Germany.  So what can we do?  We’ve packed up a few things, and we’re trying to make everything work as I continue my flight lessons.  

It’s a little tricky to write about making a home in any manner that is practical for most people when your world temporarily revolves around airplanes and you’re sleeping 15 feet away from one every night.  So go ahead and tell your friends, “You know that really weird couple at Making This Home who lives in all these really weird places?  Bet you can’t guess what weirdness they’re up to now…”

I did meet a new neighbor, though.  Would you like to say hi?

Every Friday as we look at all of the green and international weddings being featured on Making This Home, I am filled with joy and great memories.  I also get a little sad.  One day soon, I know I’m going to be heading thousands of miles away from my family.  Many of you have probably experienced the same thing at some point.  It might not be as drastic as moving overseas.  When you’re close to your family, any move feels big, though.  

I’ve never really known how it felt to be away from my family before I went to Berlin.  You know Martin and I are constantly moving.  It’s just that my family is SO big that no matter where I lived, someone in my family had always been close by.  If I got homesick in college, I visited my cousin.  When I spend the summer in DC, I could slip away to the country.  Then Martin and I could drive 60 minutes to another cousin’s for Easter.  It’s like my parents never had to worry.  They always knew that someone in our family would be nearby.

Then I moved to Germany.  You can probably guess: no one in my family lived within 90 like I was used to.  No matter how much I distracted myself with learning a new language or remodeling our 36 square foot kitchen, deep down I felt oddly alone sometimes.  I didn’t have any of those people around who knew me when I thought neon pink and green sunglasses shaped like stars were the coolest thing.  There wasn’t anyone in Berlin who loved, more than almost anything outside, the exact same spot in the exact same woods as me.

Until now.

Meet my uncle and his super cool wife.  They’re moving to Berlin at the end of the month.  How cool is that?

Some bloggers’ hearts patter when they see beautiful photographs, the perfect dining room, or amazing fashion.  Not me.  It’s all about the fam.  After all, they’re the cornerstone of any home.  We’re already talking about Thanksgiving and Christmas together.  I love that about family.

Anyone else have ironic yet wonderful family stories?  How about fruitcake stories?  (We’re also trying to make sure my grandma doesn’t succeed in getting any Christmas fruitcake to Berlin…!)

Look!  Up in the sky.  It’s a bird…  It’s a plane…

Oh my gosh.  It’s me.

By myself.

Martin is on the ground with a radio in his hand.

While I come back from my first solo flight.

And good news, I made it back down without a hitch.  

(Well obviously, since I’m here telling you about it.)

* * *

I’m still in shock at the thought of flying without Martin by my side.  Sometimes, I’m still shocked that he isn’t in the pilot’s seat when we are together because I am sitting there.  I always call him “my pilot”.  Now he needs a new nickname (and he is not keen on “my co-pilot”).

On the day of my solo flight, Martin and I got out of bed, quickly ate some breakfast, and went to pre-flight the plane.  The air felt like silk.  I knew it was the day Martin was going to get out of the plane and have me keep flying while he was on the ground.  I like to say that he was so afraid of my flying that he jumped out of the plane on the first chance he got.

Really, though, he wanted to jump out two days before, and when I found out what he was planning, I panicked.  It never occurred to me that I could be ready to fly without him.  For years, I have told Martin that I cannot be a pilot because I do not do landings.  It became a huge joke between us, and slowly, I stopped resisting.  In fact, according to my log book, I have almost 100 landings under my belt with Martin at my side.  Still, I was nervous.  He agreed to stay… well at least stay one more time.

The next day, we had horrible crosswinds.  That meant the wind was blowing over the runway at an angle instead of straight (or not at all).  You have to do some fancy footwork and handwork to keep your plane on track.  I didn’t have to think about doing my first solo flight because I knew no instructor would have a student solo in those kinds of winds.  So I relaxed.  I practiced with the idea in my mind that my instructor could not keep correcting me forever.  It made me relax.  It made me build confidence.

So when we woke up on the day pictured above and the air was smooth, I knew I needed to go off on my own.  And more importantly, I was ready.  I was excited.

Martin and I went and practiced a few maneuvers.  We did two landings.  Then Martin asked me to let him out of the plane.

Four pilots gathered outside to watch me take off.  At the end of the runway, I whispered the phrase women in my family have been whispering for generations:  Lord give me strength.  I pushed the throttle in all the way, and the engine roared.

I zipped across the runway and lifted off.  The plane felt weird without someone on my right.  I wasn’t bumping any elbows, and the plane rose faster without the extra weight.  I realized I wasn’t even scared.  I followed the traffic pattern, watching my altitude, and really feeling like I knew what to do.

Ten minutes later, I landed and immediately took off again.  ”Great landing and great takeoff,” Martin radioed.  You can probably guess how huge my smile was.  Twice more, I came around and landed before coming to a full stop and exiting the runway.

Those four pilots cheered as I climbed from the plane.  Martin gave me a huge hug, and so did the very pilot who taught Martin how to fly so long ago.  

And all I could wonder was:  why did I resist learning how to fly for so long?

I hope you enjoyed this blip in my weekend.  Thoughts?  Tips?  Ideas?  Places you want me to take you?

Have you ever dreamed of having a space of your very own where you could read, blog, paint – whatever you’d love to spend a lazy Sunday doing?  For years, I have been in love with not only the idea of having my own little corner, but having my little corner completely separate from the rest of the house.

I was beyond excited when I stumbled on a UK company called Plankbridge and couldn’t wait to share their creations with you.  Shepherds’ huts are becoming an incredibly popular, mobile solution for a space of your own in the UK.  Companies like Plankbridge are restoring old huts, using refurbished materials, and building entirely new huts.  They’re so inspiring.

Shall we take a look?

Then when you’re ready to move your hut back to town, well this next picture just cracks me up.

I imagine most people have bathrooms bigger than these little rooms.  That’s where the challenge of simplicity comes in.  If you or I had one of these little extra rooms, we’d have to decide what we would most want in our little retreat.

And then we could make up little rules about who would be allowed in our little clubhouse like we were little kids all over again.

Secret meetings, smuggling our favorite snacks from the kitchen, deciding who gets to drive the tractor when we want to move the hut next…

Inspired by the shepherds’ huts used in the 19th and 20th centuries, many of today’s huts still have iron wheels and corrugated iron roofs and sometimes walls.  They still have windows on both the front and back, which shepherds needed to keep an eye on their flocks.  The kitchen/living area/sleeping area that were once rolled into one, crowded space have now become a luxurious, simple space.

The only problem is the lack of heat.  Some of you might think of air conditioning, but around here, it’s all about the winter heat.  We have some friends who rented an apartment with a little coal burning stove like the one below.  It was the only heat source they had in the house, and it sounded so romantic to get up and stock the oven every morning.

Well apparently, a little coal burning stove is far from romantic.  Far, far, far.  All they could do was laugh one of those, “If only we knew…” kind of chuckles.  But it’s summer now – I think we all try to block out the frigid weather, which is why I am so completely in love with a little hut.  Hope you liked the tour as much as me!

Now where should we look next week?  Let me know if you know any unique homes.

(Images from Plankbridge)