Coming Soon!

Photos, stories, videos, and more--stay tuned! Flickr likes to take its time, much to my dismay. I may be lounging around in a coffee shop, but I don't have all day! Day One of my Big New Job starts tomorrow, and I have much to do.

Yikes!

More to come as soon as Flickr decides to speed it up.

Golden sun and three-year-old giggles

three-year-old giggles from Ruth Writes on Vimeo.
who knew a hand slap game could be so hilarious?

My glass is waiting, for some fresh ice cubes

I'm sitting here, at the gigantic-oversized-brightred dining room table in this gigantic-oversized-brightred house we're renting, listening to Norah Jones and drinking wine and watching Nana and my aunt play Wahoo. No, I'd never heard of it, either. Some card game similar to Spit but more complicated and bigger and more difficult.

I've been feeling very unmotivated about blogging lately. Perusing other blogs and seeing how many new followers they've gotten in one week and how many commenters they have on one post has me a little disheartened. Silly, I know, but I almost feel like writing in a journal is just the same as writing this blog. I've heard it said that when you start blogging it's like talking to nobody in an empty room. That's so true, isn't it? Gradually you get followers and commenters and regular readers and all that, but when? I know I've only been blogging since January, but it's a little discouraging. Sometimes I think I should just give it up altogether.

Since I really don't have any words tonight and I'm feeling a bit too melodramatic and self-pitying, I'll leave you with snippets of the conversations between Nana and my aunt. I've never heard Nana like this, she's ca-raaaazy!

Nana: She ain't got no respect, Ruthie!

Nana: Oh! She's not very nice.
AB: She's always the martyr.
Nana: I'm the one that asked you to play.
AB: I'm the one that has to reach so far over all these cards!

Nana: Her poor old mother with her arthritic fingers . . .
AB: I've got arthritic fingers, too, you know.

Nana: All right, Beth, that's enough, that's enough, that's enough . . .
AB: Enough excuses!

emerald isle in the morning

Waking up before dawn? No prob, Bob.
Tiptoe-ing around the room so as not to wake sisters and cousins while I stumble around looking for some semblance of an outfit? Yup.
Slipping out of the house and waltzing to the beach with coffee mug in hand? Done.
Overcoming my irrational hatred of sand and sitting in it in sneakers and yoga pants with no towel? Psh, please. I'm so there.

That's right, that's the sun rising. I've always wanted to call myself an "early riser" or a "early bird" or a "morning person," but the motivation has just never seemed to stick. That's why today, after getting in one good morning of sleeping-in-laziness yesterday, I set my alarm and woke up early. Before the sun. It was still dark out.

I think I'm going to do this every day. Nothing but me, coffee, a banana, a notebook, my camera, and the waves. And the rare runners or dog-walkers. Who knew the world was awake so early?

Who knew the world even exists before the sun is up?

Alive and Well

I have made it safely to our destination. I'm trying to take it all in as best I can--the sights, the sounds, the family, the food, the house, and perhaps most importantly, the beach! (sorry family.) I do believe that part of vacation is becoming a little less wired and connected, but this may be hard. I'll be back soon, no doubt.

Coming up: pictures of the coastline!

Summer Vacation Stop One: Washington, D.C.

Yesterday afternoon we arrived in D.C. safely and soundly, completing the first leg of our summer vacation trip to the outer Banks. We're only here for the weekend, but we've had a lot crammed in and frankly, I'm already exhausted. I won't mind sleeping in the car for the next seven-hour leg to North Carolina. As long as I buy me some headphones, first and foremost (note to self: never forget headphones on a seven-hour car ride in a minivan with your family).

We've ridden the elevator up and down, and up and down.


We've already visited the White House, again (too bad Obama's at the Cape).


We've done lots and lots of walking, hand-in-hand.

We've spent a lot of time on Rachel's roof deck, swimming and eating and chatting and tanning.

We've played with this adorable baby (not babysitting, but playing--big difference).

We're pros at riding the Metro everywhere (Mary's absolute favorite).

And being huge dorks on the Mall and taking tourist-y photos. A requirement.

Emerald Isle, here we come! Please be as warm and sunny and beautiful as I remember you.

How great are these shoes

I want 'em.

(via The Sartorialist)

Done Done Donedonedone DONE

Today was my last day of babysitting. And working at daycare. And ever having to take care of another child as long as I live, unless I do so willingly or ever have my own.

I will never ever be subject to snotty, over-protective, self-centered parents who put no trust in their childcare providers.

And I will also never ever be subject to snotty, rude, bratty, manipulative children.

If I don't want to.

This is cause for celebration! I'm liberated! I'm free! (Until Spetember 1st, when the rest of my life starts.) Until then, I'll be lounging on the beaches of North Carolina with a drink in my hand and a good book in my lap (I'll be sure to blog).

And I won't be looking after any children.

("I love you, Ruth".....at least the kids are damn cute.)


(Addendum: I do not hate children. I just hate the actions of bratty children. And I may be a little bit bitter after all these years of babysitting and nannying and daycare-working.)

we're not strangers to love

You know, how sometimes, you just have nothing to say? I have nothing to say. I have nothing blog-worthy to blog about. I have nothing noteworthy to photograph. I have no funny anecdotes to share. If I were fifteen and driving in the car with a cute boy, I'd really have nothing to say. I've got nothing.

Ugh.
Just let Barack do my talking:

Hello, August

How I love the flip-flop tan lines you give my feet,

and the rich smell of freshly cut grass,

the gorgeous flowers in full bloom,

the carefree bicycle rides,

the neverending hydrangea bushes,

the sound of faucets and sprinklers and hoses and pools,

the ablility to grill just about everything for dinner,

and taking many, many cat naps.

The Time Traveler's Wife

I saw it. I semi-liked it. Some parts were good, some parts were bad. If you haven't seen it yet, I would highly suggest reading the book first. Really. I guess this is usually the case, but the book was just about a bajillion (jabillion? majillion?) times better. Go ahead. Read it. And then go see it. And then we can talk.

And if you've already seen it, what did you think? I personally hate when foreign actors try to put on American accents. And when little kids don't act like real little kids do. And having twelve-year-old girls sitting behind you in the theater giggling over parts that are non-giggly probably doesn't help, either.

Perhaps I'll re-read the book . . .

Reunited!

Jana's home!

And it feels so good.


I've got her for a whole five days, and I can't wait to get the show on the road.

How I've missed this girl.

A Dapple of My Weekend

I really don't have many pictures to prove it, but my weekend involved:

>Friday night escapades at Fat Cats

>Chinese food

>Playing with cousins

>A graduation party on the lake

>Yummy sangria

>A much-needed nap

>Outdoor music and towering beers

>Sleeping in

>Cuddling with Stella, of course

(Are you new to Ruth Writes? Welcome! Be sure to become a follower and check back often for updates--thanks for visiting!)

Super Flax Bread

On this rainy Thursday, I took a few hours this morning and made some absolutely delicious flaxseed bread. Ground flaxseeds, soaked flaxseeds, raw flaxseeds--it's got them all. Loaded up and super dense, it made a great snack with butter and jam.

Dear Emerald Isle,

Only one more week, and we shall be reunited.

Lovingly,

Ruth

Felicitous Findings: Part 14

1. The sounds of seagulls and waves lapping at the shore of Long Island Sound

2. Quiet children

3. The prospect of Jana coming home on Sunday and going to see "The Time Traveler's Wife"

4. Flaxseeds

5. A freshly vacuumed carpet


Where do you find felicity?

(Photo via circo de invierno)

Valentines in August

Why not?