And you guys, Washington drivers are bad, quite bad. But not Oregon bad. 

Headed back to my roots this weekend, thought you might enjoy a photo of my youth:

Oh, to go back to the days where I longed for hips. I think I wished too hard, because holy gudunk-y-dunk, I got em.

Moving On.

I have unofficially officially decided that listening to David Bowie is the only way to commute to work on Friday morning.  Especially if that particular Friday includes jet-setting to Los Angeles to stay with my sister (whose name I will bless until my dying day for introducing me to Bowie) for her birthday, kiss Clara's sweet cheeks (Teresa recently mentioned that they tasted like donuts!) and visit with my mom and other sister (also her birthday!) over a delicious luncheon.  It will be a whirlwind trip, but there's rumor of a Flamenco Dinner Theater.  (What does one wear to such a place?)

Joel and I joined his parents this last weekend in Greenwater, Washington, located in the foothills of Mt. Rainier.  We did exactly a lot of nothing.  Well, Joel climbed two trees and threw several large sticks for our family dog, Abbey.  However, my particular kind of nothing meant reading, staring at the fire, taking naps, sunbathing, playing boggle, sipping various beverages, meandering pleasantries with the parents, and allowing that angst-y boredom to sit on my bones and soak deep into the soil of my soul.  It turns out that boredom, if indulged, can actually feel a lot like peace; however, the conversion requires intense mental discipline and I am practicing and practicing.  Just like anxiety and excitement.

(Sidenote: My therapist recently mention that anxiety and excitement feel the same in the body.   Apparently, I've been very excited for the last 10 years.  Sigh.  Anxiety in my being is as familiar to me as my husband is.  I see it, I breath through it, I recognize it, and yet it persists.  I'm beginning to get accustomed to its presence as a part of my DNA and consequently have stopped letting it have so much attention.)

Why do we fear boredom?  Why do we feel the compulsion to constantly fill the rooms of our houses with background noise?  Why are so many of our hobbies and activities escapist in nature?  I can't help but feel that we must be running from something - even from the nagging fear that maybe we are more shallow than we think...or that if we stop to examine the hard parts too much, they will take over and we will be sad.   How interesting it is to know a person by how they spend their leisure time.  I have no express point here, and certainly don't intend to sound judge-y, but I am reflecting on the goodness of boredom and how few people I know are genuinely adept at soulful-rest.  Everyone I know values hard work and is exhilarated by the "go-go-go" of daily life, but a tragic few feel equally motivated to rest (I am not talking about mindless rest such as sleep or various forms of entertainment and technologies - though of course they have their merit). I therefore fully believe weekends such as these are vastly more soul-satisfying than I realize.  Even within our marriage we have noticed that intentionally pursuing individual time to day-dream has been so good for us both.  I happen to have a lifestyle where planning that time is easier for me than for others, but as our pursuit of a family begins to birth itself in our brains, I want nothing more than to master this discipline BEFORE it becomes challenged by children.  Nothing like setting up ridiculous expectations for a family, right?  I am certain they will be dashed - and that my life will morph into something unrecognizable to me now, but I wouldn't be me if I didn't idealize on some regard.  Either way, I want to prioritize these mind-vacations.

To your dreams,
By day and by night.


A video of Joel at the treetop:


for larger and more photos:

Camping w Mom_Dad Greenwater

My lover and I keep having these "is this seriously our life?!" weekends.  

We are relishing every little morsel.

Saturday we decided to walk to the Farmer's Market for some produce and meat to grill.  Joel has been ALL about his grill lately, and so we found a dozen fresh oysters and some lamb chops.  While walking home, we ducked into a coffee shop for a quick Americano and game of Farkle (one of our newest date obsessions).  After a few hours, lunch called us to the Village Sushi, just down the street.

Once home, the sunshine seduced us outside and we finally attended to the herb garden we've been trying to plant all spring.  A few hours (and very stiff legs) later, we had our humble garden of cilantro, Italian parsley, mint, and chervil.  While I finished up the gardening, Joel BBQ's the oysters and we enjoyed the rest of the evening with friends.









I' faith, I myself enjoyed it a bit too much, and spent the night and next day paying for it.  Sunday we spent recovering from my booze intake.  We drove to Joel's parents and picnicked on their lawn for a few hours, soaking up the sunshine, resting, and talking.

There are Mondays when I feel refreshed and ready to take on the tasks of the work week, but friends - I tell you, today I am wishing for an extension of my weekend something awful.  What would I do, you ask?  Just as Joel asswered last night when I asked him..."spend more time with you."

Swoon.

Back to the grind.

Welcome to my brain.
Today, I'm thinking of:

grapefruit, avocado, kalamata olives, and olive oil

Pancetta-wrapped dates

Dinner last night with my love.  Sigh.

That was delicious.

This weekend I'm throwing a baby shower for my lovely Devon and her baby boy arriving in June.  Can't wait to make wee sandwiches and individual tiramisu, oogle miniature man clothes - plus drinking champagne at 1pm is, quite frankly, something I live for.

I'm hoping my Joel takes me to see the new "Jane Eyre" which just released in Seattle today.  Did you know there are 27 adaptations of the novel?  I liked Charlotte Gainsbourg as Jane, but the movie itself was very meh.

I have been looking ahead to this summer, dreaming about swimming, booking camping trips, coordinating a few road trips, and other such delightful holidays.  

I'm daydreaming about my room...it's freshly painted and only needs 1 more coat and my desk in it for me to spread my wings, untuck my thoughts, and lie on the floor of my soul like a snow-angel.  I've got my March poem popping about in my head and it needs to get out - but it needs its very own room.  I'm also working on some photography projects that I'd love to narrow my focus upon.  I'm backed up in letters and other such correspondence since my desk hasn't been unpacked since the move in October.  Cannot wait for this to happen.  My desk is my grand-mother's sewing table, and I'm just in love with it.

I'm pages away from finishing "The Sun Also Rises."  I have enjoyed it immensely and am quite sad to be finished with it already.  Hemingway's stark, terse, economical sentences remind me VERY much of Camus - also one of my favorite authors.  Must look into their correlation.

I'm kicking myself in the wallet for a tax issue I forgot to employ earlier this year.  We owe a rather annoyingly large sum of money to Uncle Sam, and it just hurts.

Sunday is supposed to be gorgeous in Seattle.

I plan to spend it sleeping and eating my mother-in-law's food.

xxxxx