I woke this morning to the sun blazing through the the cracks in the blinds. I wasn’t too bothered though, because I’d slept till 8:30, which is a late morning for me. Brannon left for coffee with a friend and I had the quiet morning to myself. I made some tea and read my bible for awhile, waking up. Lindy nudged my legs repeatedly as if to say, “Mama…..I have to go! Please take me out!” How could I refuse such a cute face? So out we went.

The morning air was cool and damp against my skin. It was a balmy 69 degrees, a welcome change from the recent heat wave. I decided that weather this good warranted a run. A half hour later Lindy and I were pooped, but ready to take on the day. After a shower and washing some dishes, I pulled out my sewing machine, unfinished projects, bias tape, thread, pins, and ironing board. I had so much fun scattering the dining room table with fabric and notions and matching up color combinations. I finished making 12 baby bibs in about 3 hours. I felt a great surge of accomplishment and joy in my creative work. I even enjoyed cleaning up!

In the evening, Brannon and I took the G train down to Park Slope to hang out. We ate at a tiny Thai restaurant called Beet and walked hand in hand down streets lined with brownstones shaded by full grown trees. Even the busy streets felt peaceful.

Back at home I made tea, lit candles, and settled into EB White’s Letters. Jazz was playing low on my great grandfather’s radio. By the time I closed my book my eyelids were heavy. I sat listening to the radio and watching the candles flicker.

It was a truly delightful day from beginning to end, and I’m sure I will sleep well tonight.

Goodnight!

It is 20 degrees outside and the windchill is 7 degrees.  After walking Lindy to the park for a measly 10 minutes this morning, I was frozen to the bone.  The news reported 20-30 mph winds with 40 mph gusts.  That ranks in the “difficulty walking” weather category on weather.com. I had no intention of going back outside, so I put the kettle on and settled in for the morning with my book. Unfortunately,  Brannon came home from breakfast with a friend, red faced and windblown, announcing that he had bad news.  The wind had blown his glasses clear off of his face and into the street just in time for a car to crush them to smithereens.  He held in his hand the two rectangle lenses and several brown plastic shards. So much for my hibernation plan.

I’d only finished half of my tea before I was putting on my coat again. We were off to Manhattan. I bundled myself with extra care because my ears were already hurting from the morning walk. I know I looked absolutely ridiculous, but when it comes to extreme cold I have no shame. I doubt any other New Yorkers have either, for that matter. After all, people here wear sheer panty hose as pants around in public and don’t think twice. I layered up with two long sleeve t-shirts, a sweater, my thick Yale hooded sweatshirt, pashmina scarf, stocking cap tied tightly under my chin, matching mittens, and black trench coat — sweatshirt hood up.  I could still feel the wind in my ears twisting like tiny knives.

The trip was worth it to find Brannon a spiffy new pair of glasses though.  While we were waiting for the lenses to be cut he didn’t want to go anywhere because he was so disoriented from lack of vision. This is very unlike him, because he is usually curiously exploring whatever 20 block radius he finds himself in. Our little adventure took up the majority of the day. Brannon went straight to work when we got home (what a trooper), and I took a short  nap. Today was by far the coldest day I’ve experienced since we’ve been in New York.  I hope the temperature only goes up from here.

When I was a little girl, my grandmother knitted a long Christmas stocking for me, with Santa’s face on the front and my name across the top.  She also made one for my parents and sister, so we all have matching stockings.  When Brannon joined our family, my mom wanted to get Brannon a stocking too.  To our surprise, she found someone who hand knits stockings with the same pattern and sells them on ebay.  Apparently these stockings are popular items, because she had to order one 6 months ago to get it before Christmas.

Yesterday we received a package which contained my 29 year old stocking AND a brand new, hand knitted stocking with Brannon’s name on it!  It matched mine almost perfectly.  He loved it! Now I was really starting to catch the Christmas spirit.  I began visualizing where we could hang our stockings in our apartment, since we have no fireplace or mantle

Today, I discovered a most unpleasant surprise. I’d left the stockings on the kitchen table last night.  When I went into the kitchen this morning, Brannon’s stocking lay in a heap on the floor.  To my horror, I picked it up to find that Santa’s beard had been destroyed!  I had a hunch as to who the culprit was. I turned around and yelled in my strictest disciplinary voice, “Who ate Santa’s beard?!!?!”  Lindy crept into the room with her ears back and her tail tucked.  She had guilty written all over her face.

In the end, Brannon and I got a good laugh out of it. Santa’s dismantled beard has yet to be found, so I’m pretty sure she ingested it.  That may make for a difficult poop in a couple of days. I guess Lindy  just caught a little too much Christmas spirit.

The first day of September was just as I predicted.  This morning was much chillier than the last, the air smelled crisp, and Starbucks officially launched the Pumpkin Spice Latte for the season; three definite signs that Fall has arrived. I expected a somewhat uneventful day.  I was wrong.

The day began with a trip over to traffic court at 8:00am.  I got a ticket a few weeks back because the tag was expired.  So I gathered my essentials: iphone, wallet, keys, and new tag registration.  I told my husband I’d be back in 30 minutes or less.  This one should be a piece of cake.  As it turned out, I shared a court date with about 50 other people whose cases were much more involved than mine.  Grand dramas ensued, from DUI and drug possession to teenage girl knife fights and domestic violence.  After 2.5 hours, my name was finally called.  The judge dismissed my ticket and sent me on my way.  I was bummed that I had to sit in court for so long, but at least it was entertaining.

The afternoon proved to be very productive and creative.  I pieced all of my quilt squares together, finishing the front of the quilt.  I think it needs to be bigger, so I may end up adding more squares to it.  But I’ll tackle that project tomorrow. I also got a surprise phone call from my dear friend Beth.  It is always so encouraging to chat with old friends.

Evening topped it all off with chicken nachos for dinner and a yummy latte for dessert. After dinner we took a walk in the park, and curled up on the couch listening to Aaron Copeland and Beethoven on our recently procured antique radio. The radio belonged to my great grandfather.  Thanks to Daddy for letting me have it!

Happy Fall to all and to all a goodnight.

Today is the last day of August and hopefully the beginning of the end of Summer.  When I walked outside this morning the air was chilly, and I noticed a few extra leaves on the ground. These were  signs that Fall is on its way.  Fall always puts me in a good mood. It is a brisk season of bustling movement.  Fall welcomes our favorite holidays, hearty soups, woolen sweaters, and apple pies.

Although I was off work today, I decided to make it a day of fresh starts, wrapping up, and preparation. Here are a few of the things I’ve done today:

1. Early morning walk/jog  (I’m hopeful that the cool weather will encourage a new habit for me.)

2. House cleaning (I even changed the sheets!)

3. Grocery shopping

4. Created the last few squares of my quilt in progress (I plan to piece it together tomorrow.)

5. Playtime with Lindy in the leafy yard. (Lindy gets a longer playtime in the fall, due to less heat.)

Come quickly September, we’re ready for you.

Sewing has recently become my newest hobby.  Until a few months ago I had never touched a sewing machine before.  If you’d asked me about bobbins or feed dogs you would have found me quite bemused.  My mom gave me a tiny “Sew-Mini” machine as a wedding gift.  I think she thought it would come in handy in case I ever needed to mend something.  Little did she know the toylike machine would inspire me to actually take up sewing.  I bought Sewing For Dummies (yes, it is very helpful) and read it cover to cover.  I bought a few patterns and began to gather fabric scraps from family and friends to practice with.  I’ve now acquired quite a collection!  Whenever I have a free afternoon or evening, I dump out all my fabric scraps onto the table and start conceptualizing how I can put them together and what sorts of things I can make.  While I am still very much a beginner in this craft, I am always trying to branch out to learn new patterns and projects.  So far I have focused mostly on making aprons and bags. Hand embroidery is also a recent development.

A few nights ago, Brannon went out to meet with a friend and I had the whole house to myself. So of course I took the opportunity to make a grand mess with fabric and notions, singing along to my favorite Simon and Garfunkel LP.  It was an absolutely glorious evening.  I collected six new project ideas and set them aside. I even had time to clean up before Brannon came home. I’ve posted some pictures of a tote bag and a pillow that I just finished.

I also want to give a special thanks to Michelle Berg Radford for letting me raid her box of funky fabric scraps last week!

Grocery shopping may be considered a mundane or even dreaded task by most people.   However, I happen to be one of the weird foodies out there who actually relishes the weekly trip to the supermarket.  The possibilities for culinary creations are endless. The most difficult part for me is choosing what to buy and what to leave on the shelf.

I recently received a Bi-Lo gift card from a friend in the mail.  Within a half hour I was on my way to restocking the fridge. The plastic rectangle bearing the image of a fresh juicy orange was practically singeing my fingertips.  I had to spend it right away.  What ensued was one of the most thrilling grocery trips I’ve had in a while.  There was a limited amount of time before I needed to be home to cook supper, forcing me to exercise the deductive taste buds in my head.

Unhindered by my bank account I raced through the store in a record 20 minutes gathering items I normally spend several minutes deliberating.  Meals began forming in my mind making my mouth water and tempting me to change my supper plans again and again.  Corn on the Cob — Ground Beef — Cheddar Cheese — South Carolina Peaches — Jasmine Rice — Cinnamon Toast Crunch! I even indulged myself in a package of crescent rolls, a processed childhood favorite I rarely prepare anymore.

Though a seemingly regular menu option, supper last night was especially savored.  I made Poppy-seed Chicken with Jasmine rice, broccoli, and crescent rolls.  Mmm… I can still taste all that yummy goodness.  Now, I’m debating whether to make tacos, stir fry, or grilled hamburgers and corn on the cob tonight.  But, one thing is for sure;  as soon as the peaches ripen, a pie is in order!

We got a nice rain last night.  Rain in May is usually a pleasant thing, because it quenches the heat and hides the sun.  Rain in August is another story.  In August, rain just adds steam to the sauna.

Stepping outside this morning, after the rain, was like stepping into a cool bath.  The air was dense and chilly.  I decided to go for a jog.  Less than five minutes up the street I was fully immersed in condensation.

One thing I love about South Carolina is the abundance of sweet smelling flowers in spring.  Honeysuckle and Jasmine grow on almost every fence. Towering Magnolia trees open their wide white blooms.  The  infusion of these thick, humid fragrances fill the nostrils and soak through the skin.

Between the Honeysuckle and Snow Patrol’s One Hundred Million Suns moving me forward, this morning’s jog was near perfect.  I can’t wait to try out some Snow Patrol jogs in Brooklyn someday, though I sure will miss the Honeysuckle.

My Border Collie, Lindy, has taken to hiding lately.  Almost every day I am delightfully puzzled by the inventive ways she uses her energy.  For example, if she gets excited she breaks into spontaneous runs behind the azalea bushes along the fence.  When she gets to the back end she jumps on the fence and attempts to chew her way through, without success.  She creates games to play with herself if we are not playing with her.  She throws the ball for herself, sneaks up on it and pounces.   If she can steal a pair of socks from the laundry she takes them outside and eats them.  We find sock remnants from time to time strewn haphazardly throughout the backyard. Sometimes she chases her tail, laying down.  Just imagine a dog laying on its side spinning in circles trying to bite its own tail.  It is quite an entertaining sight. In her calmer moments, she nuzzles up next to us in bed or gently rests her chin on my knee for easy petting access.   Now her new pastime is hiding under the bed.  I’m not quite sure what she is hiding from, but she seems to like it under there.  Usually she gets scared when I pull out the vacuum or  broom.   But  lately she has been hanging out under the bed for no apparent reason, especially at night.  It’s humorous because once she is under the bed, she has a hard time getting herself out.  She will stay there for hours until I find her and pull her out.  Lindy has been the  primary instigator of smiles in our house these past few weeks.

I often wonder how we, too, wander into things that seem promising but end up being very difficult to manage.   Life’s blows sometimes seem to come one after the other until you feel your insides bruised and bleeding.  I’m realizing that finding the appropriate response to hard situations is far more important than the situations themselves.  I know Lindy has the ability to find her way out from under the bed.  So do we.

I love the view from my teak rocking chair on the back porch.  My husband sits in the corner, his brow furrowed in thought as he reads.  The cicadas sing in the distance.  Our Border Collie brings in a series of chewable objects from the yard one by one, entertaining herself like a child playing with imaginary friends.   I’m just getting to the good part in my book, but I’m distracted by this scene around me, unable to focus on the words.

Brannon notices that I am staring at him, and his eyes smile at me from behind his dark rimmed glasses.  Then he rises slowly and gently kisses my face without a word as he makes his way inside.

I cannot help but soak in these moments.