 December 25, 2009, at 2:41 pm 
On November 30 the movers came and packed and loaded all our belongings, and that evening we got on a plane and flew to Seattle, Washington. In the last 3 weeks we found a new apartment in the Queen Anne neighborhood of Seattle, moved in and started unpacking. We’ve barely had time to breathe let alone decorate for Christmas, but fortunately one of the radio towers in Queen Anne is decorated like a Christmas tree, so each night we fall asleep to the lights of a very tall and rather skinny tree sparkling in the sky outside our bedroom window.
This year the cards and presents that we’re sending are late, and all our decorations are in boxes waiting to be unpacked. We don’t even have a wreath on door. But we’re happy and healthy, and our family and friends are doing well, so I really can’t ask for much more.
In the immortal words of Dr. Seuss:
And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling:
How could it be so?
It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
It came without packages boxes, or bags!
And he puzzled and puzzled, till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before!
“Maybe Christmas,” he thought, “doesn’t come from a store.
Maybe Christmas… perhaps… means a little bit more.”
Merry Christmas everyone!!
November 23, 2009, at 9:56 pm 
If you’re one of the few people that actually read my site on a regular basis (Hi Mom!) you might have noticed that I’ve been a bit absent lately. We’ll it’s been for a very good reason – I’m moving to Seattle! My husband, Jim, has taken a fantastic new job and we’re moving at the end of the month.
So starting on December 1st I’ll be blogging to you from the emerald city. I’ve only been once, last weekend, so I’ll have a lot of exploring to do. I’m looking forward to sharing this new adventure with all of you! In the meantime, feel free to peruse the handful of photos I took over the weekend in my future hometown.
October 25, 2009, at 7:57 pm 
Yesterday is ashes, tomorrow is wood.
Only today does the fire burn brightly.
-Old Inuit Proverb
My copy of Widdershins arrived today. Widdershins, by Charles de Lint, is the sequel to The Onion Girl, which I read recently and loved. This quote was on the inside, next to the table of contents, and when I read it I felt my eyes fill with tears. I’m not quite sure why. I think there’s just something about living in the moment, remembering that today is the only reality that we have, that makes me feel nostalgic. It seems like that’s the opposite of the reaction I should have, I should want to seize the day, but instead I get a sense of how precious this very moment is, and a strange sadness that we never truly get to experience anything twice.
October 11, 2009, at 6:15 pm 
Yesterday morning it snowed, the first snowfall of the year. The temperatures plunged below zero, and in one night some trees dropped all their leaves in a panicked attempt to keep up with the temperature change. It was amazing to see the blankets of green leaves covering the grass and snow and gathering in the street. My planned trip to the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum took on a new twist, as I had to gear up for winter hiking, but I got some nice shots of fall of color with a bit of snow on it.
It was my first trip to the arboretum, so I didn’t really know what to expect. It was a lot of fun tromping though the trails, making first tracks on the first snow of the season, photographing flowers and trees with little snow caps and catching droplets of snowmelt in the sunlight. We saw little waterfalls, quick-moving streams and even quicker-moving wild turkeys (maybe the snow made them think it was November). We got a little lost, but it was nice to just explore without having to worry about direction. We went where the interesting photos were and it worked out just fine.
It seems wild to me that only a few weeks ago I was eating at Lucia’s outside patio in a tank and shorts. Yesterday’s snow had melted by lunchtime, but we got some light flurries today, and tomorrow we’re expected to get up to a few inches of accumulation, so it looks like winter is here. For me, I’ve got a log burning in the fireplace and a whole chicken roasting in the oven. Winter, bring it on.
September 20, 2009, at 11:33 am 
The first year I lived in Minnesota, I heard a lot of talk about the state fair. It seemed like the Minnesotan event of the summer, the one thing that everyone seemed to go to. I was intrigued. I’d never been to a state fair before. Oh, sure, Michigan has one, and New York has one too. New Jersey even has a state fair (although I didn’t know until I looked it up just now)! And yet I’d never been to any of them.
Growing up, I thought only people who raised livestock went to the fair. I was slightly disturbed by the whole idea, having grown up reading and watching Charlotte’s Web. I didn’t want to see cute little(!) pigs and cows that would be eaten when they got home. My parents weren’t interested in going to the fair either, but for different reasons. It seems the Michigan State Fair is held in a somewhat sketchy part of town. Neither of my parents grew up going to fair; it just wasn’t the thing to do there. So I was pretty surprised to find out that it IS the thing to do here in Minnesota. So that first year, Jim and I hopped in the car and drove out to the fair to see what it was all about.
On that first visit we didn’t really check a map and headed north to see what there was to see. It seems the northern part of the state fair is where the farm equipment is displayed. I’d never seen so many tractors in my life, and was in awe of the size and variety of tractors and tillers available. Being a city girl, I didn’t even know what a lot of the stuff was used for! It was a real eye-opener for me, knowing that I truly was in the heart of farm country. We also got to see some of of the logging equipment in use, classic cars and tractors and the dog show. It wasn’t until we started to get hungry that we ventured over to the south end of the fair.
Continue reading Discovering the Minnesota State Fair »
July 13, 2009, at 3:54 pm 
This sweet dog was hanging out with his people yesterday at the Bastille Day block party at Barbette in Minneapolis, MN. Pit bull terriers really get a bad rap, and this guy was the perfect example of how sweet they can be. Just look at that smile!
June 16, 2009, at 8:45 am 
On Sunday I turned 33. I’m getting to the age where birthdays start to seem bittersweet – it’s great to celebrate another year of life, but at the same time I know my years are limited. I realize I don’t know how many years I’ll get, but I know it’s not all that likely to be more than 100, and I’ve already used a third of that. It’s wondrous but frightening at the same time.
Jim gave me a really sweet card listing some cute and quirky reasons that I should be really glad to be 33. It was really nice of him to notice that I wasn’t really thrilled about it and to write such sweet and cheerful things to me; he could have just given me a store-written card. It might seem silly but those words mean more to me than an expensive gift.
Am I happy with how I’ve spent the last 33 years? In a lot of ways I am. I’ve had a lot of fun, and I’ve learned a lot. I’ve always valued the experience more than having something to show for my time, and I’ve had some really great experiences. I’m happy with who I am, and with the direction that I’m headed, and I’m learning a little about myself, and life, every day. That seems like a pretty good place to be at 33.
June 1, 2009, at 6:29 pm 
There’s something about warm weather that makes me crave sweets. I’ve gotten a little out of control lately, having dessert after lunch and dinner and taking afternoon trips to the local bakeries for fudge brownies and lemon squares, so I’ll be abstaining for a while to break the habit. But of course that doesn’t mean I can’t look… and photograph!
May 1, 2009, at 3:30 pm 
I started this week off with a case of, well, frankly, I don’t know what it was. A virus of some sort, the kind that gives you a nasty headache, vertigo, nausea and exhaustion. It forced me to slow down, and this slowing down let me tap into my creativity a bit more. I ultimately got more done creatively than I’ve been getting done on a weekly basis, in part because I couldn’t run around doing errands and in part because thinking hurt, so over thinking was out of the question. I’ve always heard that getting sick is the body’s way of telling me I’m doing too much. I apparently need that reminder a lot.
Yesterday I took a walk on the street that I live on, but I walked on the other side. That little action of crossing the street provided me with a whole new world to photograph. All it took was a small change of perspective for me to see the world in a whole new way. I found a beautiful flowering tree, a little stand of dandelions and a really quaint alley that I probably shouldn’t have been in (I think it was private property, oops!). These were all things I’d walked past many times before but never bothered to pay attention to. All I had to do was to slow down and open my eyes to a new perspective.
April 30, 2009, at 3:57 pm 
When I was little I loved the rain. I loved how dark the sky would get during a thunderstorm, and the way lightning would cut across the evening sky. I loved the rumbling of thunder as I fell asleep at night. Even in college I loved the rain. We used to wear rain jackets with shorts and flip-flops and hang out in the rain, beers in hand. I loved the smell of rain, and the way it would fill the forest near my dormitory. And I loved the quiet after a good, hard rain, when the birds chirping would be the only sound in the woods.
But then I got a job and an apartment in the city, and had to take the subway to work. I would walk in my suit or dress pants and heels to the subway, umbrella in hand, and then wait on the sweltering platform with all the other wet riders on their way to work. We’d pack into a wet subway car, no one wanting to sit as umbrellas and rain jackets covered the seats with water. Then back out into the rain, the wind turning my umbrella inside out and soaking me head to toe. There was one day when I got to the subway entrance and found out that the tunnels had flooded and that I would have to walk to work, 89th street to Midtown, in a downpour. It wasn’t long before I started to hate the rain.
In the last few months, however, I’ve learned to love the rain again. Rain means springtime, the end of the long hard winters I’ve gotten used to here in Minnesota. It also means flowers, moss, and green leaves. Minneapolis has enough foliage that the after-rain smell that I loved when I was younger is back, along with the dark and varied skies I remember from childhood. Rain reminds me of the old adage, that the bad allows you to appreciate the good in life. Rain allows me to appreciate the sunny days, the warm days, the flowers and trees, a soft breeze on my face. It reminds me that dark days mean brighter days are on the horizon, and good things are on their way.
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