new tries

I stepped out of my comfort zone. I almost panicked, but didn't. I breathed, and I got through it, and I think maybe some amount of light seeped in.

I, excruciatingly, can't tell yet.

sometimes this is all i feel i know.

Breathing in, I know that I am breathing in.

Breathing out, I know that I am breathing out.

                                    --Thich Nat Hanh

felicitous findings: part 29

1. More batches of flax seed bread. I think soon I'll have the recipe memorized.

2. Finding solace in staying home sick for two days (it's been miserable) when friends make a special delivery of homemade soup, bread, and ginger ale.

3. Pre-class "homework" for a Philosophy and Ethics of Yoga course I'm taking on Sunday--it makes me feel smart to be doing "homework" again after so long.

4. Upcoming birthday parties and preparing caramel sea salt brownies as a gift (yes, they're that popular).

5. Drinking enormous amounts of orange juice, with sickness being an excuse. My body needs it, right?


(I actually thought about making this an anti-Felicitous Findings, and posting about all the things that are making me crazy right now, as that would be much easier to recall, but quickly realized that that would defeat the purpose. Uh, oops.)

around the house

An amaryllis unfurling all at once in a great big roll, spilling out gloriously and opening wider than imaginable.

Finding use for the leftover-candy-canes-that-nobody-wants. Verdict: they can be pretty fun when used non-traditionally.

I couldn't resist this shot of the full moon Thursday morning, peering out at me through the trees and my curtains as I awoke, taunting me to get out of bed and capture her photo. I just barely managed it before she slipped out of sight.


(Just a question, dear readers: do the photos on this blog seem cut off on the right? On my screen, they always appear in full size, but I've learned that on other computers they're much too large and the whole right edge disappears. Help! Does this happen when you read?)

visit to columbus

Ah, if only weekends were longer. I could stay in Columbus with Abby and fantasize about never returning to New England.

We spent our long weekend lounging in happy hours, drinking beer and eating chips while watching UConn basketball win a game, hopping through snow and slush to stroll the cutest bookshops and boutiques you'll ever see, staying up late ordering really good beer at the self-proclaimed "cultural hub of the Midwest," ordering Greek food and watching endless episodes of Weeds, and wandering the North Market and reveling at its amazingness.

Good thing I'll be seeing her again this weekend, for I might die of withdrawl.

Thanks, Abby!


Note of interest: A bloody mary will greatly improve the quality of one's airplane ride.

off to: ohio

I'm off for the weekend to visit my dear friend Abby far away at grad school in Ohio (and she's almost done! I'm so proud of her).

Here's us at our (very windy) graduation day, almost two (!) years ago:

I'm signing off here till Monday, when I'm hoping to come back with plenty of photos and stories.

We're supposed to be getting MORE snow here, so I'm hoping to jet off before it gets too crummy. Enjoy your weekends!

owl companions

Most nights, after I've driven home from an exhausting work day and cooked a meal and put away my things, I find myself sitting in front of my computer screen, thankful for the mindless quality of this time spent distracted from the realities of life, if not for just a few moments.

And then, I hear it.

It's been going on for about a week now: the far-off hooting of a distant owl.

It seems to be just through the pane of the window in front of my desk, but I know it's many feet away, probably deep in the woods.

But he calls. And I like to imagine this owl is like Mary Oliver's wild geese, calling to me my place in the family of things. I think he is, actually.

A few weeks ago I went out into the woods on a Sunday morning (before two feet of snow was deposited on us, that is), and stopped at the edge of the pond to snap up a few photos. Suddenly, I heard a great flapping overhead and looked up just in time to see a huge, boxy owl fly off the pine tree to my right. I don't think I'll ever forget the sound of that enormously loud SLAP SLAP SLAP  as the owl rose up right above my head. It seemed he was there, flying about a tree in the middle of a Sunday morning, to promise me company, to assure me of a connection stronger than that between my fingers and my keyboard or steering wheel.

And these bring me some comfort, however small.

felicitous findings: part 28

1. Blueberries and tulips. On sale at the grocery store and my body has demanded  blueberries ever since. Good thing the largest package was so cheap!

2. The prospect of a weekend retreat to Kripalu in a couple of months.

3. MC Yogi (especially Om Namah Shivaya). I can't get enough.

4. Breathing in the morning. Tomorrow I'm aiming for two whole minutes. This is no mean feat, in my book.

5. Excitement for a trip to Ohio to see my very dear friend Abby this weekend :)

a dapple of my weekend

Friday: a much needed afternoon off from work to nurse a very persistent cold, and then a night spent sledding under the moon to reverse any good.

Saturday morning: a little sister who kindly offered to bring me breakfast in bed (waffles and a banana, with a dollop of whipped cream) as an excuse to hang out with me when I refused to get out of bed and play with her.


Saturday afternoon: a trip to the farm for their winter farm stand, stocking up on potatoes, carrots, beets, and radishes (and the snowy mountain views). Then, a stroll through Northampton, stumbling upon Tibetan prayer flags, a new (to me) natural foods store, and the most delicious Sambar I've ever tasted.




Sunday morning: just the way I like it. Capturing the sunlight in the early morning, a gentle yoga class, a trip to the grocery store for necessities (blueberries and tulips on sale!), and a long hot shower.

Hope your weekends were lovely, wherever you are :)

argh

I'm beginning to become afraid that my blog will be lost forever.

Buttons were pressed and mistakes were made and now--argh! My blog seems hopeless.

Bear with me while I sort things out. If only I knew web design at time like these...


Not a very good start to the weekend at all! I'm going to do my best to mend it with night sledding and lots of sleep and a visit to the farm's winter store tomorrow. Happy weekend!

snow day, in b&w

Two feet of snow, and it's still snowing: sweet potato apple bread and caramel sea salt brownies, back-breaking shoveling and trudging through drifts, one load of laundry and a full bag of junk taken out of my bedroom, lots of taking pictures and lots of computer time.

Another one tomorrow?


(PS: the HTML of my blog has suddenly eluded me and I can't seem to figure it out--bear with me while I'm figuring it all out!)

trees fall

On this rare morning home from work (stuck with tissues constantly at my nose and a sore head from so much congestion), I sit and listen to the sounds that go on when no one is usually here to witness them.

Next door, the neighbors are taking down trees, tired of living in a virtual forest, I guess (we're out in the backwoods of the state). And yet, as I hear the chainsaws crying before echoing thuds of the enormous trunks coming down, I can't help but feel sad.

The earth shudders as they hit the ground, and it feels a shame.

(Perhaps this video posted by Carmella is too fresh in my mind...)

Growing is Forever from Jesse Rosten on Vimeo.

christmas trip to boston

A few photos from last week's trip to Boston with sisters, that I forgot to post till now, somehow. On the agenda: wandering the Common and Public Garden, a much-anticipated visit to the American Girl Doll store, and a stop at the apartment of some very dear friends.

a dapple of my weekend

This weekend was cozy. And snowy and wintery and snuggly.

If only it fit in with the rest of my week.

there are days like these

.....when I can only find respite in long hot showers, listening to nothing but the streaming of water onto my head and over my ears and down my body, every other noise and voice and distraction seemingly nonexistent, when I want nothing more than to stand in this water all night long and through the morning and perhaps (wishfully) throughout the entire weekend.

Days like these are bound to happen, no matter the work to avoid them, I suppose.

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