The Good Logger

Her earrings dangle, sparkling in the spotlight. Simple black T-shirt and black pants. No shoes, but black socks instead. Her hair a Rapunzel blonde provide a frame around her welcoming smiling face, outlined with red shiny glasses. "The winter of 2009 was an unforgiving, bone-chilling, record-breaking snowfall winter. I can still see the icicles with their one-foot bases reading from the roof gutters all the way down to the sidewalks that had an additional two-inch sheet of

The Clothed in Dignity project is about 75% complete and I am weary! Each day I wear a dress and each day the to-do list is a mile long, filled with things that have nothing to do with the project or Peoria Home. Such is life. I am grateful for the opportunity to raise money for such a good cause but in my daily life, some things feel very big. It's okay though. Only about 100 days to go. My story is featured on the Peoria Home site; have a look-see! Clothed in Dignity I am h

In the early eighties, my family lived in Wyoming. My dad's family lived there, and I got to be in my cousin's wedding as a flower girl. My Auntie Sue sewed a pretty purple velour dress for the occasion, and I remember loving it! Years later when I got married, my cousin's daughter was my flower girl. Her dress was a pretty royal purple too, at my request, and her grandma, Auntie Sue sewed it for her. This picture is of me and my brother at the wedding. He now towers over me,

Here are seven things I have learned in seven months of dresses. 1. At the beginning, Clothed in Dignity dominated my mind. I was constantly planning the next outfit or blog post. I routinely took a daily picture, compiling them into weekly collages to post. Wearing a dress was the lens through which I saw the world. I had a fair amount of anxiety about the Wednesday Facebook videos. I realized I needed a bit of balance if this was going to last a whole year. 2. I realized

It was 1994 or '95, and I was getting ready to go to the dance at school. About 7th or 8th grade. The theme of the dance was 70s, so "obviously" I needed to dress vintage. I excitedly picked out the loudest tie-dye outfit my mom had, dreamed of my crush asking me to dance, and headed out. I arrived and realized my fatal mistake. NO ONE else was dressed in the decade of the dance, but our current decade instead (which probably would be hilarious now). Death by humiliation. Mom

Challenge level up! This past weekend I successfully rode a bike on a trail for several miles while wearing a dress! A year ago I had the idea for a challenge like this, so I did a little test. I tried to see how many days I could wear a dress. I only got to day five or six because I needed to go on a bike ride with my family and I wasn’t sure how to make it work. So this achievement was very special. The dress: grey sleeveless cotton top and a flow-y maroon skirt nearly to m

Four months ago I embarked on the Clothed in Dignity project. I have been encouraged by your pledges, questions, and responses. I have every intention of wearing a dress until December 31 of this year! Putting on a dress is actually almost the easiest part! There have been challenges, and some that I haven't anticipated. The Lord is giving me a lot of things to work on within myself! He is showing me I am much more in need of Him than I even thought! He is showing me how intr

She has always struggled to settle down for the night. It comes and goes in severity, but generally she keeps thinking of things to grab, or things she needs to do, or something she wants to talk about. I am settled for the night in front of my computer doing work while also watching some mindless television. Usually Friends or a movie I've seen a million times. Something I can half-watch while catching up on the to-do list. Tonight's selection is some old movie I don't know

Today is the 100th day of wearing dresses to raise money for Peoria Home! Check out my previous posts about the project. Click here to pledge Clothed in Dignity pledge #ClothedinDignity #PeoriaHome

Friendship is like two clocks keeping time. (Unknown) We sit in a circle, the flurry of conversation slowing like a train approaching the station. A sip of coffee, a contented sigh. Normally our meetings are short and full of excitement and chatting, just an evening. This is different: our annual weekend away. There's a routine to our time now that we all kind of know. We're okay with the quiet moments. Someone prompts a question or suggests a game and the train speeds up aga

An unseasonably warm day after an unbearably cold and snowy winter rushed in like a friend visiting who'd been gone too long. We embraced it enthusiastically, me and everyone else in the Pacific Northwest. My children begging to run in the sprinkler and dousing themselves with water because it's "so hot." We all breathe sighs of relief because Aslan indeed is on the move and now living among us. The crocus, purple, yellow, and white look a little weary now. Thriving in the fr

I have a confession: I don't wear a dress every minute of the day. Obviously, I cannot. There are at least a few minutes of each day I cannot. Only the closest people to me (my family) are allowed to see me then. Recently though, a situation arose in which I had to be dress-less. It was during the big snowstorm. My kids and I walked over to a friend's house in our neighborhood. I was wearing snuggly sweater leggings and rain boots and a long maxi skirt to which the dry and fl

A year ago November my Grandma Harriet died. She was actually my step-grandmother, but the way she cared and loved me, there was nothing “step” about it. The thing I remember most about her was that she loved her family, she loved Tupperware, and she was frequently smiling. She always made divinity (white fudge) at Christmastime and she and Floyd, my paternal grandfather, would always come to our house on Christmas Day because it was my dad and brother’s birthdays. She would

I see him down the alley, walking toward us. Me and my three youngest children. A heavy bag on my back, my shoulders slumped by books and shame. I am an easy target. “Hello, maam?” He questions to me. He begins to speak and I know what is coming. His lips quivering in fear, his eyes welling with tears. The look of shame and embarrassment in his eyes and voice recognizable and relatable. A request for money, or something. Maybe a confession. “Could you….?” He trails off. “No,

Peoria Home 26 / January / 2019 5th Annual Beacon of Hope Auction and Dinner to Benefit Local Recovery Home On March 16, 2019, Peoria Home will hold their fifth annual auction and benefit dinner at Edward D. Hansen Conference Center at Angel of the Winds Arena in Everett, WA. Peoria Home is a two-year recovery program for women affected by sex trafficking, prostitution, and addiction. The event will feature addresses by current residents of Peoria Home, a live and silent auct

In the dark room, a speakeasy, he waits. We meet him there, cool and collected. He's a rebel, an outlaw. He's also arrogant. A scruffy-looking nerf herder. He's Han Solo. Han has a story, but for thirty years it's been hidden. Why is he so rough and guarded? Why does he respond with such discontent? Photo by Lucrezia Carnelos on Unsplash In 2018, the story was revealed, and we learn Han's sad and sordid history. There's a reason he's arrogant. There's a reason he's rough arou

January is Human Trafficking Awareness Month. Last week on January 11, it was "Wear Blue Day," a day in which wearing blue shows support for survivors of the life. In our culture, color is powerful. Style is meaningful. Pink means breast cancer awareness and support. Lime green supports Non-Hodgkins lymphoma. Orange brings awareness for leukemia. Clothing is also powerful. The clothing we wear shows what we find important and how we feel. If we wear a Seahawks jersey, it show

The bubbles of fear start in my stomach, moving up like the bubbles in a Diet Coke bottle. My legs subtly shake and I feel like I'm going to puke, although I've barely eaten. I turn around a wall and shake my hands to get the bubbles out. I know this feeling well. Call it anticipation. Call it anxiety. Call it expectation. It happens when I think something may happen. Like right before I may have to speak in front of a group, or play the piano at a recital. Or when I have to

In the Gerlach family we draw names for Christmas. This year my brother-in-law drew my name. I had asked for leggings and tights to help prepare for 2019, and was gifted with a variety of animal and emoji prints. These will definitely be eye-catching under a skirt next year! The biggest surprise though, was a donation to Peoria Home! Thank you! I am honored by every contribution, question, and encouragement as I get ready for a year of dresses. The women presently at Peoria H

Hello Readers! I hope you have been enjoying Scott's series on Prevention for The Thrill of Hope. It has been very educational for me, especially as I get ready to wear dresses every day for a year for Clothed in Dignity. How Scott approaches johns, the buyers of sex, with compassion has really resonated with me. Very often in the work of abolition, the johns are the "bad guys" upon which all responsibility rests. He, rightly in my opinion, puts more of the responsibility on