February 7, 2013 § 18 Comments
Even when you’re a northerner through and through, and you cherish each of the four seasons, there are times when winter starts to wear on you. Just a little bit.
There are times, when it’s been a while since the snow cover has been refreshed and a while since the temperature has been above single digits, and it starts to feel drab and dreary and repetitive. It loses its luster the way snowbanks do as they get trampled over and sprayed with dirt.
But then, in the midst of all that, you may have a morning where you wake up to hear the cheery whistle of a songbird, “twee-ooo,” letting you know that it may get up into the teens today, and suddenly the world feels a little more alive. Then, the clouds may roll in and blanket everything with 4 or 5 inches of fresh powdery snow, and the world feels a little more clean. And hopefully, on such a day, you’ll decide not to go cross-country skiing on the groomed trails, even though you have a 50 km race you were supposed to be busting your butt training for, and instead go tromping in the woods, playing tag with the dog, searching for animal tracks, and making snow angels, and then you’ll remember why winter is gorgeous and magical.
Even the most wonderful things need paying attention to, or you’ll forget how very wonderful they are. « Read the rest of this entry »
September 13, 2012 § 17 Comments
Although fun and life-giving and joyful and love-filled right now, if I had to choose a single word to describe life these past two weeks (and thank goodness I don’t have to choose just one word – a world where you use only one word when you could spout off a string of five to ten would be a sad world indeed, far too Hemingway-ian for the verbose among us), it would be chaotic.
Totally chaotic. Connecting with old friends and nabbing as much quality time with family as possible on top of working on a dissertation on top of that ultimate relaxing free time activity of, ahem, starting a business, turns out not to be a recipe for order and quiet. We did expect this, but you never fully appreciate these things until you’re in the middle of them.
But I love it! We love it! We love everyone here. So far so amazing. We even had a chance to ride around on The Lake and under the Aerial Lift Bridge on a decommissioned coast guard cutter owned by friends of friends, all in the name of settling in. That’s pretty darn cool. « Read the rest of this entry »
August 15, 2012 § 9 Comments
As we get ready to leave Boston, people keep asking me if I have a Boston bucket list, the things I want to do – or do one last time – before we skip town for colder, more birch tree and lake filled climes. I don’t for the most part. My bucket list is really seeing people, the close friends or just the daily faces that are so familiar.
It’s entirely expected that I’ll miss our dear, wonderful friends, our neighbors, my fellow doctoral students. I’ll miss them like the dickens. What is less expected, but is a realization creeping up on me is how much I will probably wind up missing the UPS man, the hip barristas at the local coffee shop, the sandwich crafting artistes at the cafe, the goofy kids at the cash register at the dog bakery (yes, there’s a dog bakery in our neighborhood), the fellow dog owners I wave at every day when I’m out with Squid, the old guy in the short shorts and helmet from the early ’80s who rides his bike everywhere all year round.
These are the personalities, colors, faces, voices that make up what we have of community here.
Also on my bucket list is simply keeping my eyes open to appreciate the daily sights here. We have a wonderful view from our apartment of lush tree tops and just the hints of skyscraper tops (Boston has all of 4 or 5 skyscrapers). It’s Boston, so there are truly historic sites tucked in here and there and everywhere amidst daily life. The trees and vines, flowers and bushes of the arboretum look like fairyscapes right now, so I’m trying to remember to breathe them in amidst the frenzy of everything else going on.
And, no surprise, there is a bit of a food bucket list. We’re making quick runs to our favorite farm stands, an unhealthy number of stops at our favorite bakeries and ice cream shop, and by the end of next week, we’ll probably be floating away on a river of really excellent iced coffee.
Most exciting of all (well, maybe not of all, but it was definitely exciting), we finally went on a hot date to a rather fancy restaurant that we’ve been daydreaming about trying for a while. For all my interest in food and reading of restaurant reviews in the Times, I have been to very few seriously fine dining establishments (approximately zero, before this). I’ve been a grad student for a while, and all! So, though I love the idea of it, I’m completely intimidated by fancy restaurants, and we probably would not have wound up going in the end had Joel’s aunt and uncle not brilliantly and generously given us a gift certificate as a birthday present.
May 29, 2012 § 18 Comments
The last of our guests left this morning, and I’m left with that funny feeling of slight relief and slight let-down after a big event and lots of social time. The apartment feels remarkably quiet and empty, and I have a lot of work to catch up on.
If you mapped out the trajectory of the contents of our house from Thursday through now, you would see how it arced parabolically, from the two of us (well, three, if you count Squid) to five, to fourteen(!), to nine, to four, and down to just two again. And now one, actually, as I sit at my desk at home with my reflections and the puppy for company.
The weekend was nothing short of epic. The belated Syttende Mai party topped the charts (I’ll tell you more about it later when I have both my photos and thoughts in order), but we did a great deal more excellent eating and exploring on top of that. Also, can I just say that Minnesotans (former Minnesotans included) make the best house guests! Sure it’s still work, but every time you turn around, someone has done the dishes for you or even gone ahead and scrubbed your stove top.
Anyhow, the odds and ends of a dozen delicious meals are sitting in the fridge, and I’m partaking in the joy of leftovers. Today, I’m particularly loving this pea puree. Its sweet pea flavor and sateen texture are so fresh, so spring, and oh so very, very green. Preppy green. The green of chinos that one might pair with a rather pink polo shirt and a cardigan draped over the shoulders.
May 7, 2012 § 141 Comments
When you think about it, it’s remarkable, really, just how many opportunities we have every day to do something new. Much of the time it doesn’t feel like it. Our days follow patterns. We have baskets full of habits and well-worn ruts that we comfortably cruise along in.
And actually, a certain amount of repetition and stability in your life turns out to be really important and healthy. Which makes perfect sense. Nature is full of rhythms and patterns. We reside within them, and if completely rhythmless we feel jostled and jarred and seriously uncomfortable.
But if we don’t keep our eyes open to all the myriad of tiny dips and swerves within the patterns, it can be easy to feel trapped in some sort of mold that looks a lot like same-old-same-old.
I forget sometimes, that I’m the one making the decision to walk down the exact same street to get to the subway every time I go, when in reality, there are dozens of paths that run there. The destination is the same – rhythm – but I can switch the route up – discovery!
Same with cooking. We need to eat. Pretty darn regularly, in fact! And it’s easy to find ourselves making the same things over and over again. Of course, I’ll be the first person to sing the praises of old weeknight standbys (did somebody say spaghetti?!). They’re lifesavers. But, it’s also remarkable to me just how very many things I’ve never made before, or techniques I haven’t tried. Even with a decent number of years of cooking under my belt. « Read the rest of this entry »
April 27, 2012 § 18 Comments
Life is grand friends. Really grand. I can’t stop beaming with pride from every cell of my body, and it’s because of this.
It’s a sourdough loaf. It’s the little things, you know. Isn’t she a beauty? Perfectly crackly hard shell of a crust, spongey chewy interior crumb, those lovely blistered gashes and bits of charred flour. I would shell out good money for a loaf like this, wrapped nicely in brown paper, at a bakery. But I made it myself!(!!!) And I am fit to burst with how excited I am about it.
It came out of the oven just after 11 last night because that’s when it appeared ready to bake, and well, I haven’t stopped smiling goofily about it since.
April 7, 2012 § 14 Comments
My childhood was filled with snowy Easters, the ground washed out with dirty grey snow banks punctuated by brown splotches as taupe as a suburban housing development. We would collect barren branches at the start of Lent and put them in a vase, and by Easter tiny leaves would be peeping out from the buds. This was the only green to be seen. The only flowers were those in the colorful plastic wrapped pots we brought home from the grocery store.
This is my way of asking forgiveness if I prattle on and on about spring for the next couple of weeks. It’s a bit hard to think about much else right now. Spring in these parts can be a little in your face.
If appearances are anything to go by, the trees have hired the same decorator that did Barbie’s Dreamhouse. The cherries’ branches are waterfalls of tiny pink blossoms. The magnolias are bedecked with large drooping flowers as soft and swishy as ballerina skirts. I always find the pastel palate that industry breaks out for spring to be terribly cheesy, until spring actually rolls around. Then I remember that it’s just honest. « Read the rest of this entry »
April 3, 2012 § 20 Comments
Were I a poet, I would write odes in celebration of cardamom.
Actually, now that I give my bold statement a little thought, were I a poet, I would probably have much more profound and brooding things to write about. For example, what a sparrow isn’t.
(This is an actual discussion that Joel and I once had, after hearing a pair of essays by a husband and wife one of whom is a poet and the other a novelist. What a sparrow isn’t comes up as a poetic theme. Later on a walk, I asked Joel what he thought of when he imagined what a sparrow isn’t, and he launched into a long musing exploration of the fluttering energy each little life on this earth has and the vacuum that could be left were it not there and how this might change the overall universe. Then he asked what came to my mind when I thought of what a sparrow isn’t. “An elephant and a beach ball,” I replied. Joel writes poetry. I don’t.)
March 16, 2012 § 33 Comments
This is where I am right now: it has been quite a week. Actually, to be perfectly honest, and for lack of a better way to put it, it’s been a pretty terrible week. It could have been a worse week, and for that I’m thankful – that it wasn’t worse – but, it has still been the sort of week where, at the end of it, you need a really effing huge (and I almost never use fake expletives, so you better believe I mean this) glass of wine to salvage any vestiges of sanity and good humor you may have hiding somewhere.
The week before was a rough week, but it was merely busy. It was just work. I can handle work stress with a tearful breakdown only every couple of weeks (crying is how I seem to let emotions out. Any emotion. Happy, sad, angry, stressed…It’s not convenient, but it’s how I work.). But this week it got personal as well.
February 17, 2012 § 24 Comments
I was thinking of calling this butternata, which, to me, makes it sound like it is a sonata of or about butter, which sounds bizarre and wonderful. Don’t you think? But, I didn’t want to mislead anyone. There is no butter involved here – though a generous hand with the olive oil more than makes up for that – except of the ‘nut squash variety.
And, speaking of butternut squash, have I told you about my friend and the bulk squash episode? I probably have already. But, I consider us all old friends here now, which means you’re going to have to listen to my stories, whether or not you’ve already heard them, and laugh and gasp and nod in all of the right places. I can’t wait.
We have a friend who, one fall when he and his wife lived near us, tagged onto our CSA to buy a bulk order of winter squash. And bulk was what he received. I’m not even quite sure how many pounds of squash he ordered, but it was on a magnitude you’d usually associate with a grocer’s. Joel is piping in, “it was probably, like, a hundred pounds. At least.”