Friday, June 19, 2009
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Autumnal Air (in August!)
This evening whilst meandering the streets of the bitsy 'city' that we live in, my love and I couldn't help but notice the autumnal air nipping at our ears and arms (all else was covered, it is Maine after all!). Autumn, ahhhh, our favorite season.
It was nearly one year ago that we stood in unseasonably warm autumn weather by the banks of a wide, flowing river and pledged to love one another for all time. We were surrounded by love on that day (we walk in the world surrounded by love, we just need to recognize it) and it's the memory of looking out into a sea of faces that I knew and cared about, and who cared right back, that makes my throat catch. This first year of marriage, our sixth of living a unified life, has been quite a journey. We have each taken turns being too busy for our own good while the other partner has gently kept things going. And then there are blissful, sometimes stolen, moments when we relax and revel in each other--heading to bed for a midday nap and staying there until the next morning watching movies, cuddling, reading and finishing last week's crossword puzzled; leaning into each other while we're out together; sharing a laugh over a joke that only we understand; holding hands; touching each other's skin... Its been a glorious, confusing, happy, quirky and altogether inspiring trip!
One of my favorite things about this year is that we've begun moving past the 'building block' concepts of purchasing a house (done), contributing to 401(k)'s, being debt-free, and owning reliable vehicles (done, thisclose, and done) and are beginning to move onto my specialty; far-reaching dreams. Taking several weeks off to explore the locked canals of France? Let's do it! Stretching our funds to purchase a spit of land on a lake? Why not! Arranging our work lives to enable foreign living? We can do it! I am in love with this phase of our existence.
And still, we have a cozy, small cottage a block from the ocean, surrounded by friends, blessed by just about everything, and pulsating with the eagerness to live our fullest lives together. I am delighted by our current moment, and inspired by the possibilities to come.
It was nearly one year ago that we stood in unseasonably warm autumn weather by the banks of a wide, flowing river and pledged to love one another for all time. We were surrounded by love on that day (we walk in the world surrounded by love, we just need to recognize it) and it's the memory of looking out into a sea of faces that I knew and cared about, and who cared right back, that makes my throat catch. This first year of marriage, our sixth of living a unified life, has been quite a journey. We have each taken turns being too busy for our own good while the other partner has gently kept things going. And then there are blissful, sometimes stolen, moments when we relax and revel in each other--heading to bed for a midday nap and staying there until the next morning watching movies, cuddling, reading and finishing last week's crossword puzzled; leaning into each other while we're out together; sharing a laugh over a joke that only we understand; holding hands; touching each other's skin... Its been a glorious, confusing, happy, quirky and altogether inspiring trip!
One of my favorite things about this year is that we've begun moving past the 'building block' concepts of purchasing a house (done), contributing to 401(k)'s, being debt-free, and owning reliable vehicles (done, thisclose, and done) and are beginning to move onto my specialty; far-reaching dreams. Taking several weeks off to explore the locked canals of France? Let's do it! Stretching our funds to purchase a spit of land on a lake? Why not! Arranging our work lives to enable foreign living? We can do it! I am in love with this phase of our existence.
And still, we have a cozy, small cottage a block from the ocean, surrounded by friends, blessed by just about everything, and pulsating with the eagerness to live our fullest lives together. I am delighted by our current moment, and inspired by the possibilities to come.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Where has all the Summer Gone?
A dear friend reminded me that when one has a blog, one ought to attempt to update it more than once per month. "I look at your blog more than you do!" she laughed. Quite true, my dear.
The thing is, summer has leapt out of the gate like a thoroughbred, and we're rounding the first corner, heading into the straightaway. We're already halfway through the mad dash, yet it feels as though we've just begun. Summer, in this neck of the woods anyway, is not a lingering, lallygagging season. It's the season into which you squish every moment of outdoor fun you can possibly muster. Here's the score so far: Hiking? Check. A lovely jaunt was had through a local land conservation site. Ice cream? Check. A rocky road and mint chip (sounds odd, but it works) cone with friends on a hot and steamy Saturday. Lawn games? Check. Several rounds of croquet and a remarkably successful outing at the horseshoe pit. Still on the list; boating, camping, berry picking and a road trip on the motorcycle. Hurray! Still so much to do!
In other news, my sweetie and I have eased off of our passionate need to own waterfront land (slightly) and have been suddenly overcome by an urgent desire to explore the French countryside. We undertake this new endeavor with our usual impeccable sense of timing; the dollar is plummeting, the cost of air travel is skyrocketing, and Americans are slightly less than beloved by our global neighbors. Rest assured, we are not deterred. And why should we be? We're two hale and hearty whippersnappers with oodles of resources at their disposal. So far, I have been inspired NOT to buy the most stunning dress I've EVER worn in the hopes that the dough I would have spent on the super-expensive frock will be stashed away for the afore-mentioned trip. Now I just need to figure out how to infuse my delicate, ever-so-frail willpower with a hearty dose of protein and longevity. Easier said than done.
Well I'm off! The coming week brings Art Walks, island visits, swimming, boating, the possibility of camping, and the lovely anticipation of a visit from a far-away friend. May your middle of July be happy and healthy!
The thing is, summer has leapt out of the gate like a thoroughbred, and we're rounding the first corner, heading into the straightaway. We're already halfway through the mad dash, yet it feels as though we've just begun. Summer, in this neck of the woods anyway, is not a lingering, lallygagging season. It's the season into which you squish every moment of outdoor fun you can possibly muster. Here's the score so far: Hiking? Check. A lovely jaunt was had through a local land conservation site. Ice cream? Check. A rocky road and mint chip (sounds odd, but it works) cone with friends on a hot and steamy Saturday. Lawn games? Check. Several rounds of croquet and a remarkably successful outing at the horseshoe pit. Still on the list; boating, camping, berry picking and a road trip on the motorcycle. Hurray! Still so much to do!
In other news, my sweetie and I have eased off of our passionate need to own waterfront land (slightly) and have been suddenly overcome by an urgent desire to explore the French countryside. We undertake this new endeavor with our usual impeccable sense of timing; the dollar is plummeting, the cost of air travel is skyrocketing, and Americans are slightly less than beloved by our global neighbors. Rest assured, we are not deterred. And why should we be? We're two hale and hearty whippersnappers with oodles of resources at their disposal. So far, I have been inspired NOT to buy the most stunning dress I've EVER worn in the hopes that the dough I would have spent on the super-expensive frock will be stashed away for the afore-mentioned trip. Now I just need to figure out how to infuse my delicate, ever-so-frail willpower with a hearty dose of protein and longevity. Easier said than done.
Well I'm off! The coming week brings Art Walks, island visits, swimming, boating, the possibility of camping, and the lovely anticipation of a visit from a far-away friend. May your middle of July be happy and healthy!
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Awakening
Oh the gloriousness of Summer with-a-capital-s!!
Friends are beginning to arrive for their holidays with plans and ideas of loveliness to partake in (it's always a treat to see your town through the eyes of someone new) and, just off a two-week stint at a lakeside cottage, my sweetheart and I are up to our gills with dreams and the beginnings of plans for our own (modest, mind you) waterfront retreat. We live just a block from the ocean currently, but we long for yet another quirky little cottagey thing--even more rustic (electricity? we're not sure), with a porch and a loft and a dock, lake breezes and a knock-about boat or two. A place where mis-matched is charming, cooking equals potato chips with lettuce and a grilled hunk of meat (or portabella for me), flip flops are haute coture and everyone is considered family. A precious little spot with a bunkhouse (eventually), a tent platform (immediately) and a sense of home. I want to live there in the Summer, literally. We're beginning to look for property as we speak.
Have I mentioned that we are not millionaires, and barely qualify as thousandaires (if there is such a word)? We've just decided, he and I, that a smidgen of land on a body of fresh water is more important to us than new cars, a fancy house, a trip abroad, or a myriad of other things that are not quite as dear in our minds. I am excited. So far, we've sussed out and discussed the merits of every plot of land in our criteria and have each drafted sketches of the "perfect" lay-outs of our camp (thankfully they are eerily similar). We're taking into account timing (I'm in school, mind you) and funding (minimal) and desire (ample amounts). All we know at this point is that it will happen. The thrilling mystery is, when?
Friends are beginning to arrive for their holidays with plans and ideas of loveliness to partake in (it's always a treat to see your town through the eyes of someone new) and, just off a two-week stint at a lakeside cottage, my sweetheart and I are up to our gills with dreams and the beginnings of plans for our own (modest, mind you) waterfront retreat. We live just a block from the ocean currently, but we long for yet another quirky little cottagey thing--even more rustic (electricity? we're not sure), with a porch and a loft and a dock, lake breezes and a knock-about boat or two. A place where mis-matched is charming, cooking equals potato chips with lettuce and a grilled hunk of meat (or portabella for me), flip flops are haute coture and everyone is considered family. A precious little spot with a bunkhouse (eventually), a tent platform (immediately) and a sense of home. I want to live there in the Summer, literally. We're beginning to look for property as we speak.
Have I mentioned that we are not millionaires, and barely qualify as thousandaires (if there is such a word)? We've just decided, he and I, that a smidgen of land on a body of fresh water is more important to us than new cars, a fancy house, a trip abroad, or a myriad of other things that are not quite as dear in our minds. I am excited. So far, we've sussed out and discussed the merits of every plot of land in our criteria and have each drafted sketches of the "perfect" lay-outs of our camp (thankfully they are eerily similar). We're taking into account timing (I'm in school, mind you) and funding (minimal) and desire (ample amounts). All we know at this point is that it will happen. The thrilling mystery is, when?
Friday, May 2, 2008
Quiet
This site as been quiet for quite some time--a whole month, in fact. April was filled with deadlines, injury and hub-bub, May, I'm thrilled to say, is beginning in the most splendidly gentle of manners. Warm sunshine, the end of a challenging semester, budding trees, blooming bulbs, a cottage that is finally beginning to feel like a home, the arrival of my well-loved sister, and the opening of time in which to enjoy her presence, summer dresses and bare (yet still winter-white!) legs: May feels like a deep breath of sun-warmed, flower-scented air. I am drinking it in.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Overflowing
My life has been so busy lately, busy but joyful, and then, all of a sudden, it seemed there were a few too many balls to juggle, and my life was transformed into busy and stressful existence. Our home under construction, which, while exciting, is a bit unsettling. We're also in the process of moving back into our little cottage, after more then two months spent house sitting in another town. At the moment, three-quarters of my wardrobe is in the back of my car, in order to protect my dresses and shirts from the horrors of drywall dust. I sneak out of the house in my bathrobe each morning to choose my outfit from the trunk of my auto. Would you agree if I told you that the situation is less than ideal?
But wait, there's more griping to come. Of the two companies I work for, one has just undertaken a huge project, of which I am the go-to-gal, and the other is dealing with a CEO who is ill enough to be out of the office indefinitely. Also, I'm behind in school. I didn't mean to let it happen (who does?), but all of a sudden I have two papers to write, a goodly amount of responses, and a test to study for and take. Also, have I mentioned that Mikey and I are supposed to be heading out of town this weekend? I take complete responsibility for the scholastic stuff--I did it (or didn't do it, as it were), but I must admit feeling a bit overwhelmed with things to do, and overcome with worry over how I'll ever complete everything.
I watched an amazing movie last week called, Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter... And Spring. It's a beautiful and thought-provoking film filled with visual metaphors, one of which struck me in particular: A young boy playfully ties rocks to the tails of a frog, a fish and a snake as he passes a lovely day at a lake's edge. It is not until the next morning, after his elder instructs him to free the animals, that the boy realizes the destruction he has wrought by thoughtlessly attaching his burdens to other beings. Two of the animals are dead, a third barely alive. By the end of the film, it is apparent that the day's events have left a powerful and lifelong impression on the boy.
The sequence of events was such a revelation to me, and a wake-up call. I hadn't before thought of the consequences of burdening others with my stresses. Now, in a time that feels challenging, I am trying to keep in mind the lesson the young child learned that day, and to recognize and change my behavior in stressful situations. Perhaps venting my worries in a blog is another way of burdening people--I hope not--but obviously this little bit of interior work is ongoing, and I hope to be successful in creating new patterns of dealing with seemingly overwhelming worry. I'm sure it can be done.
But wait, there's more griping to come. Of the two companies I work for, one has just undertaken a huge project, of which I am the go-to-gal, and the other is dealing with a CEO who is ill enough to be out of the office indefinitely. Also, I'm behind in school. I didn't mean to let it happen (who does?), but all of a sudden I have two papers to write, a goodly amount of responses, and a test to study for and take. Also, have I mentioned that Mikey and I are supposed to be heading out of town this weekend? I take complete responsibility for the scholastic stuff--I did it (or didn't do it, as it were), but I must admit feeling a bit overwhelmed with things to do, and overcome with worry over how I'll ever complete everything.
I watched an amazing movie last week called, Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter... And Spring. It's a beautiful and thought-provoking film filled with visual metaphors, one of which struck me in particular: A young boy playfully ties rocks to the tails of a frog, a fish and a snake as he passes a lovely day at a lake's edge. It is not until the next morning, after his elder instructs him to free the animals, that the boy realizes the destruction he has wrought by thoughtlessly attaching his burdens to other beings. Two of the animals are dead, a third barely alive. By the end of the film, it is apparent that the day's events have left a powerful and lifelong impression on the boy.
The sequence of events was such a revelation to me, and a wake-up call. I hadn't before thought of the consequences of burdening others with my stresses. Now, in a time that feels challenging, I am trying to keep in mind the lesson the young child learned that day, and to recognize and change my behavior in stressful situations. Perhaps venting my worries in a blog is another way of burdening people--I hope not--but obviously this little bit of interior work is ongoing, and I hope to be successful in creating new patterns of dealing with seemingly overwhelming worry. I'm sure it can be done.
Friday, March 21, 2008
It's All You Need
Not to get all syrupy and sappy on you, but I've gotta say it's pretty incredible to wake up next to the love of your life every morning. I'm very grateful for the happiness in my life right now, at this moment.
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