Lady Holiday

February

2012-02-11T16:06:00.002-05:00

"Winters in Neely are mostly sadly predictable and barren and colorless and genuinely forlorn. Momma is the one of us who tends to suffer most through the season. She holds up well enough until Christmas and on into the New Year, but by the first week in February Momma is a lost woman. On February afternoons Momma turns on all the lamps in the house and sits in the livingroom in one of Grandma Yount's burgandy boudoir chairs where she applies herself to the same novel she has been reading off and on for six years now...

But no matter the lamps and the distractions, the last two weeks in February tend to take Momma under and occasionally she frets and cries and tells Daddy how she has to get away from Neely, how she has to get away from February, how she'd nearly be willing to die for a spring day. And Daddy puts his arms around Momma and rocks with her to hush her up, and sometimes he'll drive us out to the Holiday Inn on the by-pass where he treats Momma to a meal she doesn't have to cook or wash up after, and Daddy talks to the waitresses and talks to the other customers and tells me and Momma how he's been considering pulling up roots and moving to Buffalo where he says Momma can have her own caldron to stew in and I can go to the store with actual ice under my sled runners and Daddy tells how he'll buy us a fleet of Buicks to run off into gullies and just generally slosh around in. Wouldn't that be grand? Daddy says. Wouldn't that be the life? And Momma abides him with a smile."

from "A Short History of a Small Place" by T.R. Pearson

That is just at tiny part of my favorite part in my favorite book, and I think about it every February. We were lucky this year with a very warm mild winter, but the last week or so has been pure winter. Nights in the 20s, cloudy gray days, wind, blackbirds in the bare trees, me sniffling with a cold... I'd nearly be willing to die for a spring day right about now. I have been working in my sewing room all morning, ironing mostly because it's warm and soothing, but C and I took a walk outside to look at the buds on the trees, just to remind us that Spring really is on it's way in. If we can just get through February...

Sewing Project

2012-02-08T14:57:00.001-05:00

I'm home sick with a cold. Blah. But the good thing about being home sick with a cold is that I get to sleep in until noon, eat cookies for breakfast, eat potato chips for lunch, and get caught up on my sewing. Here is my latest project: a paintbrush holder for E. She is an art major in college now and needs a cute way to carry around her paint supplies. The brushes fit in the slots and the whole thing rolls up, then is tied with a soft ribbon.

For the outer fabric I used a heavyweight cotton twill from Spoonflower.com printed in a floral design by Zesti. The inside is lined with quilting-weight cotton in a gray linen-esque chevron design by Holli Zollinger. The roll is large enough for my sister's longest paintbrush, 14.5 inches, but can accomodate anything a bit larger or much smaller too. Basically, the brushes fit into the slots and are further secured by two strips of elastic. Maybe two strips of elastic was overkill, but at least they all will be secure!

I'm thinking of making some more of these to sell on etsy. But not today... It's time to go back to bed and watch movies, since this day is supposed to be all about rest and recovery.

The Spring Flower Revue

2012-01-29T16:43:00.000-05:00

Quince

Spring is here! Actually it has been here for quite some time. In mid-December a silly narcissus decided to awaken from its hibernation and bloom in our yard. It has been freakishly warm, but I will be the last one to complain.

I'm overjoyed that my favorite spring flower has finally appeared: the flowering quince. Quince is a nasty thorny bramble in any other season, but when its flowers appear, all gorgeous vermilion, the contrast between stark grey branches and luscious flower makes my heart melt. I remember going for a midwinter run once upon a time, and coming across a quince in full bloom. Surprised and amazed by a bramble bush with such a display of beauty, I stopped my run and stared at it for many long moments, soaking up inspiration and joy. I have loved the flowering quince ever since then.

Crocus

Other things are coming up in the yard at last, too. The purple crocuses are mostly clustered in the warm sections of the yard, but there is one brave explorer I found wandering through the underbrush all alone.

There is also the usual swathe of daffodil greenery under the grapevine, but they are packed in so tightly and in such a shady spot that they never bloom. C and I keep meaning to dig them up and spread them out. It's their only chance to ever live a real flower's life, but for some reason I never feel like digging up damp soil and bulbs in the shade on a breeze 50-degree day. And then in the fall, when all the daffodil leaves are hidden, I would not even know where to dig for all the vines and summer weed-jungle in the way. Sigh... There is much to do in our yard!

Still, there are a few intrepid daffodils that have sprouted here and there and are happy enough where they are to bloom. Some are normal looking, and others are just crazy.

Fancy Daffodil

One of our neighbor's little girls just loves to look at flowers. Whenever she sees us, she runs over to ask if she can come into our garden and look at all the flowers. C usually leads her by the hand from flower to flower, letting her sniff and admire them. Then she runs home and begs her dad to plant flowers in their yard. Maybe this year I can help her plant a little flower garden of her own.

For Christmas, the neighbor girls gave C and me a bluebird house. Their father says he keeps seeing bluebirds everywhere and thought maybe one would like to live in our yard. I think he's actually seeing blue jays, which are a quite different thing, but the thought was sweet, and who knows? Maybe a bluebird family would like to live in our yard. I've never seen a bluebird here in Durham. With all the cats nearby, I kind of doubt the baby bluebirds' chances of survival, but we do have a large songbird population that enjoys the sunflower seed selection at our bird-feeder, and perhaps a fearless wren will nest here if the bluebirds won't.

C says that bluebirds like to nest in houses that back up to woods and face a large clearing, so we mounted the house on the back fence and are hoping for the best. In front of it the bridal veil bushes are budding and popping out in little tiny white blossoms like miniature popcorn strands.

Bluebird house

Soon there will by hyacinth, tulips, snowdrops, dogwood, honeysuckle, gardenias, and all the rest. But while we say hello to all these spring flowers, we say goodbye to another. The camellias are all but done, and more lay spent and brown on the ground than are blooming on the bush. Those that bloom turn brown with the slightest heat and fall heavily. The fat camellia shrub stands full and green surrounded by its fallen rosettes, which are still beautiful though brown and look like they belong on Victorian dresses.

Next week C and I are going to build new garden boxes and plant lettuce. Maybe even peas! Flowers are all well and good, but summer's bounty of food is just around the corner.

Camellia carnage

Service

2012-01-08T17:49:00.001-05:00

The church lessons today were all on service and, as we always do, C and I discussed the topic on our way home.

"How are we supposed to love all of our neighbors? Even the ones that murder?!" he wondered.

"Maybe the best love we can give them is to stop them from murdering anyone else?" I mused.

"Also," C continued, "how do I let people serve me? I don't need anyone to do anything for me!"

It's true. C is very self-sufficient, but whether he likes it or not I am going to cut his hair this week!

Anyway, I thought back on the previous week and all the ways C has given service to people around him. He stays at home most days, but he is always on the lookout for ways to help people. Mostly me, but he happened to provide a tremendous service to the neighborhood this week. He was inside the house cleaning out the front room (it's going to be my parlor!) and he smelled smoke. It didn't smell normal so he went outside to investigate, only to discover the next-door neighbor's front lawn on fire. No one was home, and all the dry oak leaves on the grass had been ignited by some passerby's cigarette (we guessed). Who knows how long it had been smoldering, and if left unchecked it could have caught the picket fence on fire and then the house. C retrieved a fire extinguisher from our house and put the fire out. One wonders how many cars had driven by and done nothing.

C served me last night when we went to the church to change the bulletin board, which is my job. I pretty much just sat and watched while he did all the work for me--stapling the fabric to the board, leveling the posters, hanging up the high things and then carrying everything out to the car when we were done. He even coached me at basketball when we took a break in the church gym.

And every day he serves the wild birds by putting a handful of sunflower seeds in the feeder out back.

Now he is serving his family by visiting his elderly parents, while I sit at home being anti-social. Almost as soon as he drove away, I wished I would have gone with him. But then again, I want to curl up under the electric blanket and watch Downton Abbey at nine. I think I have a lot to learn about service from my husband! I love him so.

Ancient Ideas

2012-01-01T17:31:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year! I decided to turn my i-tunes on random shuffle and pretend that the first song would be an indication of how the new year would be. Well, "Sad Status Quotient" by the Pernice Brothers is not the happiest song that could have popped up, but I will take what optimism I can from it. The lyrics begin, "Trying hard to be a better person. Hindsight's 20 and my visibility is worsening. All the acolytes are choking, but my faith in life's unbroken. Wanna leave this room better than I found it..." Then it goes on to mention survivors being picked out of train-wrecks and plane crashes. Well, that's pretty depressing unless you stop and think, well at least there were survivors! The singer goes on to realize that his seemingly new ideas are actually ancient, and that people live on even when waiting for the sky to fall. And the harmonica is so wistful and gorgeous.

None of this has anything to do with my own life except that I do want to be a better person, and I've been having kind of a bad day. Sigh. I know it will get better! And I know that I can be a better person if I just start trying harder. Mostly I'm just depressed that I forgot to hand in my tithing check at church today and I wanted to give it to Bishop before the new year started. I know, I know. Not the end of the world. But then I got home and got locked out accidentally and C couldn't hear me pounding on the back door! I had to go find my emergency whistle which I keep in the garden in case of stranger danger. Then he heard me. And it would have been fine to be locked out because it was a gorgeous sunny afternoon of 65 degrees in December, which I love because I can read outside without mosquitoes biting me, but I was starving and the only thing remotely edible in the backyard is the sunflower seeds in the bird-feeder under the oak tree, but I'd have to fight the chickadees and woodpeckers for it! When I finally did get some food and go outside to read, thick grey clouds were covering up the sun and the wind was cold. Now I think it's going to get really cold, as a real winter should be. So much for the balminess we've enjoyed so far.

Anyway, my faith in life is indeed unbroken, and my goals for the new year include leaving this room (literally and metaphorically) better than I found it. I plan to do good, be wonderfully happy, and accomplish things. Who's with me?

Dracula

2011-10-16T16:41:00.000-04:00

If I could just stop sneezing long enough to write this... My fall allergies have been so horrible this year! Last year was the first time I've ever had fall allergies, and it was awful, but this year seems even worse. They are taking all the fun out of autumn!

Anyway, I finished Dracula, by Bram Stoker, about a week ago, but I have been too busy (or lazy) to blog. Regardless, it was a wonderful book! I really enjoyed it. I knew I would like it in one sense because it is a Victorian Gothic romance. But I wasn't sure about the whole horror genre. I'm not gullible, and I don't scare that easily, but I feel that my common sense prevents me from watching horror movies and reading horror stories for a reason. Dracula is definitely a scary story. It involves a man (or thing) who is the essence of pure evil, thriving on the destruction of others, who corrupts what is pure and ruins beauty and innocence and causes others to become like him. That he can take the shape of an animal or travel as a mist, and the fact that he comes when the victim is sleeping, makes him seem all the more impossible to stop. But he can be stopped. The heros of the story band together and work as a team to stop Dracula and essentially redeem the souls that he has stolen. There is mystery, action, romance, heartbreak, and redemption, all mixed together in as well-written a work of Victoriana as can be asked for. I really liked how Stoker used the technique of telling the whole story in journal entries, telegrams, and newspaper articles. His vivid descriptions of the wild lands around Transylvania were especially interesting, and his imagination throughout the whole story was impressive. We take "Dracula" for granted as a stock Halloween character now, but when the book was first published, I'm sure it caused a sensation. And for those, like me, who thought it would just be a scary story about a guy I already pretty much knew everything about, read it. You'll be surprised by what you find!

P.S. I turned on the TV last night and guess what I saw? Bela Lugosi in his famous role.

Next Book: Conan by Robert Howard. Fantasty, like horror, is not my favorite genre, but I'm willing to take a chance on a classic. Anyway, the Frank Frazetta illustration on the cover piqued my interest. I'll let you know how it is.

The Book is Always Better Than the Movie

2011-10-02T10:58:00.001-04:00

The last book that we read in my book club was The House of Mirth, by Edith Wharton, which I loved. I was surprised that I'd never read it before, and enjoyed everything about it: the rich language, descriptions of the opulent Edwardian society-girl lifestyle, the tragedy of unrequited love... By the end of the book I was crying harder than I've cried over any book I've ever read, I think. I definitely recommend it to anyone looking for a good book to read. However, I feel the opposite way about the movie! The movie, starring Gillian Anderson, is just horrible. The scenes are gorgeous, the costumes perfect, and Anderson is very good at playing the Lily Bart with a furrowed brow, especially at the end when she is so haunted and melancholy. But the rest of the acting is just horrible--slow and stilted. The actor who plays the love of Lily's life comes off as preachy and sissified, with a high-pitched voice. Some major characters are combined into one person, events are similarly topsy-turvy, and the end is just all wrong! I can't tell you why, because it would give it all away, but the moment of redemption for Lily in the book is completely gone from the movie, which casts a completely different light on the whole tragic end, but for the worse. I didn't like it at all. So, read the book but skip the movie!

Next up for book club is The Help, which I've already read, so I've decided to do something different, starting now. I'm going to read every book of my husband's. Not all in one month, of course. He has a lot! No, I'm going to start now and read them all in however much time it takes, even the science textbooks. I might save "Mein Kampf" for last, though, in hopes that I'll never get through them all in my lifetime! C has a wide and varied taste in books, everything from politics to sea-stories to poetry to classic literature to Mad magazine compilations. Where to begin? I thought I'd start with Dracula, this being October and all. I've never read it before! Best of all, C's copy is annotated, so it's full of illustrations and tangents, which I love. I'll review it here when I'm done.

The Owl

2011-09-24T08:35:00.002-04:00

The other night I was driving home after dark and when I was going through a sort of sketchy part of town I noticed some miscreants, as there usually are, up ahead crossing the street. I knew I was safe in my big car with doors locked and everything, but I was annoyed because the two men seemed to be walking as slowly as they possibly could across the street--the middle of the street, no crosswalk in sight. Jaywalking always irritates me, because my number one fear when driving is that I'm going to run over a person, but this made me even madder, because they seemed to be walking slowly on purpose, just to taunt traffic. By the time they got into my lane, I was feet away from them, and hoped they'd hurry on at the thought of impending death, but no. They ignored me and actually stopped in my lane, stood there and started talking to each other. My car came to halt, my hand hit the horn, and for a few split seconds I gave them the evil eye, then swerved around them to continue on my way. I suppose the three cars behind me had to do the same thing. And with incredulous anger, I ranted to myself about how annoying and stupid those men were.

Almost home, I drove through a quiet neighborhood with street-lamps lit. Recent rain made the streets and trees glitter. Suddenly a large and spectacular owl swooped down from the shadows of an oak tree and attempted to land on a power line. It wobbled as it grasped the line, and beat it's massive, silent wings. Then it turned it's mysterious face towards me. All anger forgot, I was suddenly in a world of awe, contemplating the wonders of nature at night.

C told me, "See? If those men in the road hadn't slowed you down, you might have missed seeing that owl. Isn't it funny how life works out sometimes?"

2011-09-01T17:46:00.003-04:00

Best birthday present ever! My awesome sister made me some banners for my etsy shop and my spoonflower shop, and so I decided to use one for my blog, too! And it's high time I wrote something here, anyway. I was trying to think of things to motivate me to write, and one of the ideas I had was to read all of my husband's books (he has a lot of classics that I've never read!) and review them here. Or, I could just ramble on about whatever, like I usually do. Right now I'm too busy reading self-help books about how to manage people, because I'm being promoted at work to a management position, something I have more enthusiasm about than experience with. I want to be a good manager! However, a few pages in to "The One-Minute Manager Builds Dynamic Teams" or something like that has left me with a few more questions than answers. I might need someone to explain all the jargon. Maybe I just need to keep reading.Anyway, I'm pretty excited about the promotion, even though it will be a lot of work. But I'm kind of sad that I'll have to give up my 7-3 schedule in lieu of regular business hours. Getting off work at 3 every day is wonderful! On the other hand, it might be nice to be able to stay up past 11 pm without feeling like a bus ran over me the next day. Still, I'm going to try and continue the "early to bed, early to rise" thing, and try to be really productive in the mornings before work so it will feel like I'm still accomplishing a lot.

Sunday Stuff

2011-08-14T19:33:00.002-04:00

I was going to post a picture of a church today, but instead I decided to show you this house in my neighborhood. It's not a church, but whoever lives there felt the need to put signs up on their house telling people to believe in God. It's a great message, in any language.

Well, it has been kind of a crazy Sunday. C and I were all ready to go to church--I was wearing a newly-made dress and had just curled my hair and I was rushing out the door after him--when I saw his face and knew something was wrong. It was a big ol' flat tire on the car! I'm surprised C didn't notice it earlier when he'd gone out to check on the garden, but I know how it is to be oblivious. I'm always not noticing things! So we went back inside and changed out of our nice clothes and got some practice putting on the spare tire, which was great because I think this is the first time since he's owned the car that C has accessed and used the spare, which is normally attached to the underside of our car. I watched, and I think I could even do it now if I ever need to, which makes me feel good. It didn't look too hard at all. The flat tire, we saw, had some sort of thin metal spike wedged between the treads, which caused the puncture. We must have acquired it at some point yesterday on our trip to the grocery store.

So, we were late for church. But I wish we could have missed the last third instead of the first third, because in both Sunday School and Relief Society it was the chastity lesson! Not that I have a problem with chastity, but it was a little bit repetitive. Oh well, I am actually glad that the church has it as a lesson, because it is a huge problem in the world today, and no less for LDS people than for anyone else. I'm constantly amazed at the number of people who are friends or friends of friends whose marriages have been affected by pornography. And I am also often saddened to know young women and men who have been not kept the law of chastity in their dating years, and whose lives have been so badly scarred by all the trouble such activities bring. Families really need to do a better job of teaching their daughters to be virtuous and strong, and their sons to be valiant and pure. It's such a difficult but vitally important topic.

Anyway, I'm testing out my computer and so far so good. I didn't replace the battery, because they wouldn't give me a free one, but I was able to get the faceplate and bezel around the screen (whatever these things are called) replaced, and so far I have been using it for 30 minutes and the mouse pad has not freaked out like it was doing before! The guy saw hairline cracks in the old one and thought that maybe it was what was putting pressure on the pad and it's click-button thing. I don't even know what these things are called, so I won't go on about it. All I can say is, I hope that was the fix!

Mundanities

2011-08-06T20:11:00.002-04:00

Look, I coined a new word! I guess the word trivialities might also suit. Here are some:

My favorite show to watch on Saturday night is Keeping Up Appearances, an old BBC comedy about a pretentious British lady and her long-suffering husband. Hyacinth Bucket (it's pronounced Bouquet!) goes to great lengths to make sure the sort of people who eat off Royal Doulton china don't find out she's related to Daisy and Onslow who live in happy squalor with their other sister, Rose, who is dramatically fond of other women's husbands. I don't know why I love it so much, but I just do.

One of the reasons I can't blog much these days is because my computer freaks out in hot weather. It's doing it now! You don't know it but it just deleted everything I wrote, and I had to type it again. I have to hold my hands up high off the keyboard as I type or else the touch pad thinks I'm touching it, because it's all hot and can't differentiate what is what. Sigh... Also, the internet that I steal from across the street disconnects me every fifteen minutes, like it just did now. I will have to save these paragraphs when I'm done typing, reconnect, then log back on to blogger and publish my post. Sigh... We keep saying we're going to get real internet, but we never do for some reason.

Today my husband spent four and a half hours touching up scuff marks in the LDS chapel where we attend church. He's not a member. But he's very excited about the stain pens he ordered from an online company. He didn't finish all the pews--there are a lot and it's slow work, but we'll go back sometime and do the rest. While he worked on that I worked on genealogy in the family history center. I'm trying to find out when my husband's ancestors immigrated from Germany to Canada, but I have had no luck. I'm starting to wonder if there is any record out there with that information at all.

After our work at the church we visited with my family, and I got to see my mom again, back from her trip to Utah. Oh, that reminds me! I forgot to tell her that the airline called to say they found her lost luggage and would be delivering it this evening. Oops. Well, she'll get it. They had sent it to El Salvador instead, by mistake of course. My mom was staying with her mom, who turns 90 this October. My grandma lives all alone and I worry about her. Maybe she'll come out here and stay with my parents. I would love to see her again. Last time was a couple of years ago. I want my husband to meet her. Maybe I will write more about my grandma in a blog post of her own.

I don't even really know what got me to write tonight. Just felt like it, I guess. We came home from my parents house, I ate a zucchini, read the Wall Street Journal, wandered around for a few minutes sneezing (I guess from the cats at my parents' house), then sat down to write this. I guess I'll let my computer cool down now. I'm going to go watch my show, take an allergy pill, eat some ice cream, and relax.

I'm Alive, I Promise!

2011-06-02T11:40:00.006-04:00

I guess I'm just not a blogger anymore. But I want to be! Blogging was easy in New York because there were so many strange and fascinating experiences to tell my faraway friends and family about. Now that I'm just living in a regular neighborhood, doing regular things, it doesn't seem like there is as much to say. Still, I guess there are interesting things that go on here.

My brother wants me to blog about how he had to film a re-enactment of a famous movie scene for a film class. He picked a scene from No Country For Old Men, asked my husband to be the star, and went on to win a huge A from his teacher for his perfect job. It was a lot of hard work, filming at a sketchy Durham motel for a few late nights, but it was fun. I got to help with the lights. Here is a still from the "movie."I could also talk about my garden. It's so fun to grow things, as my sister can tell you. Her blog is mainly about her gardening struggles in Arizona. Things are a little easier to grow in NC, but we do have our pests and problems as well. From the plague of cankerworms that rained from the sky and ate everything in sight to the mysterious case of the bee-balm that withered and died almost seconds after being planted, gardening can be perplexing. And yet, it is also so rewarding. We've just begun to harvest our beans and they are delicious!

Posts could be written about the neighborhood cat soap operas, the strange local architecture, the challenges of fixing up my home, going to the beach to eat Krispy Kreme's fresh from the factory, coming in first place at a local restaurant's trivia contest, the books I read, the dresses I make, or my baby brother's crazy wedding. I guess I do have a lot to talk about here. Maybe I'm just too busy doing all these things to write about them. But I want to!

Rain, Rain, Go Away

2011-04-09T08:58:00.004-04:00

For reasons I don't fully understand, I can never sleep when it's raining. If I don't know it's raining and I can't hear it raining, then I can sometimes sleep, but usually I'm restless and uneasy. It's strange, because growing up in Oregon, it rained more often than not. There, however, the rain is gentle and soft, quiet and misty. When I moved east with my family, I was exposed to violent thunderstorms, nor'easters and hurricanes. But it's not just rain that creeps me out. When I was living in the dorms during college, the downside of having my own private room was the fact that water from the bathroom on the floor above would leak through my ceiling every now and then. It made me very uneasy to never know when a pipe was going to malfunction and water start coming down. When I graduated and found a job at a nice art gallery, it was a common practice to walk around the store after a rainstorm and make sure buckets were catching the puddles caused by the fashionable but leaky roof. My apartment had a strange leak in the kitchen ceiling, where water would emerge a day or two after a heavy rain, after traveling through some sort of secret passageway in the old roof. When I moved to New York, my first home was a house where my bedroom ceiling caved in, caused, I'm sure, by water damage from the washing machine on the floor above. After I fled that place, my next apartment was brand newly renovated, but it was on the top floor, and the first heavy rain caused the living room ceiling to swell up with water from a leak in the roof. Now I live in an old house with a foundation eroded and probably shifted by rain, with a yard that requires causeways and channels to divert the water so that the soil doesn't all travel away. So, you see, water and I are not good friends.

My husband continues to assure me that our house has a new roof, which he personally and painstakingly helped install a few years ago. Often, in our bedroom here, I can hardly hear the rain at night, the house's walls are so thick. Still, there is a strange pinging sound that I hear every now and then when it rains and the droplets hit the metal chimney of the water heater that extends from the wall of our kitchen. This chimney was built by idiots, my husband says, and just the other day he was pointing out to me that if the wind and rain hit the chimney just right, the water runs down the pipe into the side of the house instead flowing away and dripping onto the ground. I guess the conditions were right last night, because it rained pretty hard and, though I slept all right, I woke up early and went into the kitchen to get breakfast and stepped into a puddle of water. C was awake but not at all happy to have me pull him out of bed to inspect a puddle. He's been muttering about idiots and cursing under his breath ever since. And it's a darkish damp Saturday, so I think the best thing to do is retire to my sewing nook, turn on the radio, and do some work. But first, a shower.

The Musings of a Sick Mind

2011-04-01T12:36:00.003-04:00

I've been bedridden for days, in the grips of delirium, wondering if I will survive the long ordeal or succumb to the dreaded cold. Actually, I've only had a cold for a few days, but when I get sick I just sleep and sleep and sleep. I slept on Wednesday, then I went to work on Thursday because I felt like nobody was getting anything done without me. Then I came home and slept, and today I have barely left my bed. It's so warm in here and so cold and gray outside and I have everything I need all around me: tissues, books, i-pod, salt and vinegar potato chips, chocolate chip cookies... why should I get up? Unless there is a bright warm sunbeam somewhere to lay in, I am not getting up!

My husband, who would like for me to refer to him as "Biff" on my blog from now on, in order to further protect his identity (but I have not decided if I will or not. I'll probably forget) has been taking good care of me, bringing me food and telling me stories, and actually I thought I was delirious and hallucinating because when I came home from work the other day, he was cleaning! I mean, he was organizing! We have more floorspace in our bedroom now, and the bathroom closet is completely reorganized. He was actually throwing things away! Like old medicines and stuff. It was fantastic!

While I've been laying here in bed, I read a book about this Spanish conquistador named Orellana, who was the first Westerner to traverse the Amazon River. It is an amazing book, and I recommend it to anyone who loves adventure stories. It's nice to read stories like that when you are sick because it makes your own troubles seem not as bad. When I read about starving men devouring raw manioc and then dying of the poison while being attacked by cannibals, it puts things in perspective. And it makes me realize that humans are strong enough to endure so much more than what I complain about from day to day.

I've also been listening to radio podcasts of my favorite programs, including Bob & Sheri, a duo based in Charlotte NC, who I've listened to for years and years. They make me laugh out loud most days, and recently they had people calling in to tell true stories of weddings that turned wild. Some lady called in and said that when police came to arrest a drunk-driving guest and tow his car from the wedding she was attending, the other guests tried to tip over the tow-truck, and laid down in front of the police car wheels to prevent the guy from being taken away! Then some other guy called and talked about his own crazy wedding and how his wife is a taxidermist and is planning to stuff him when he dies and prop him up in the corner. If I don't die of this cold, I will probably die laughing because of these people. But if laughter really is the best medicine, maybe I'll get well soon?

I'm just delirious and making no sense. Maybe I will do my taxes now. I figure I might as well do tedious stuff now, while I'm sick, so as to better enjoy my time when I am well.

Gardening

2011-03-05T16:12:00.004-05:00

The most inspiring time of the year is Spring, and no where is that more apparent than outside in Nature. I love seeing everything come to life again (except mosquitos!) Last week the garden looked like this:

Now it looks like this:

C and I planted peas under the February full moon, lettuce which I don't think is going to grow because the seeds are 20 years old, and a ton of dill for some reason but oh well--it probably won't grow either. We also got some straw bales to try straw bale gardening with (you water the straw until it gets all hot and fermenty inside and then you plant stuff in it and it's supposed to be like a raised bed that you can later turn into mulch. We're going to put tomatoes in ours.)
Last week I went crazy at Lowe's and bought a ton of sunflower seeds, so we're going to have lots of those this year, and my favorite zinnias. And now I'm planning a section of the garden for herbs, since there is already a crusty old rosemary plant growing there. At Lowe's they had flats of frostbitten pansies on sale for 25 cents, so those are planted in everything. Also, until we are sure the frosts are over, we are starting squash and pepper seeds in an old record player that C turned into a baby plant incubator.

Meanwhile, the buds and blossoms of spring are going crazy. Crocus, daffodils, hyacinth, snowdrops, tulips... each is popping up one after the other in the ancient but ever young song of Spring.

A Bird's Eye View

2011-02-18T18:57:00.002-05:00

C is finally getting over his flu, and now that the weather is warm he's been working outside all day. My mom hired him to refinish a cabinet for her bathroom, and we've also started putting our garden in. Between those two projects, he's been a constant presence in the backyard, and the birds at the feeder are getting very used to him. Yesterday he wondered how close he could get to the feeder without the birds being afraid. As he had the thought, a sparrow landed on the feeder and began to eat seeds, and C decided to creep slowly towards it. Beginning at about 15 feet away from the feeder, he slowly moved closer and closer, until he was a foot away from the bird! Still, it ignored him and kept eating sunflower seeds. He looked closely at the little bird, and suddenly realized--it was blind in one eye! The eye that should have seen him was completely cloudy and useless. When C made a noise, the sparrow turned its head around, saw him, and flew away, lighting clumsily on a high branch of the oak tree. Of all the birds that come to our backyard, the one half-blind one happened to come right when C wanted to get close to a bird. What are the chances of that?

History is History

2011-02-06T09:58:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I had to go to the Post Office to mail my scissors to Gingher to get sharpened, but C is still suffering from a bad case of the flu, so I went out alone. "Be careful out there!" he said. The post office is only about 2 miles from my house, but it's in a strange neighborhood which requires a lot of defensive driving. It's more like an obstacle course. While I was driving there I encountered a car being pushed by five Mexican guys, a pack of teenage guys walking their bikes and taking up the whole left lane of the road, and a car that was parked in the road while two people were casually putting suitcases in the trunk.

There was a Dollar Tree right next to the Post Office, so I decided to go in and get C some Cheetos. When I have a cold I crave salt and vinegar potato chips. He craves Cheetos, and I thought it would cheer him up to indulge. So I grabbed the Cheetos and got in line. Now, I don't really think about it because it doesn't really matter to me, but it's true that I was the only white person in the busy dollar store. Come to think of it, besides the Mexican guys, every person I'd seen so far while running my errands had been a black person.

Anyway, as I was standing there in line at the dollar store, this big lady walked into the store and started saying hello to people. Eventually, she made her way past me and then stopped at the woman in line behind me, and this is how their conversation went:

Big Lady: Excuse me, I'd like to invite you to my Black History Month party.

Lady in Line: Okay, is it at a church?

Big Lady: No, it's at the library. Why, wouldn't you go if it was at a church? That's sad.

Lady in Line: Not for some people.

Big Lady: (clutching the Lady In Line's shoulder, and oozing false sweetness) Don't worry, I won't put you in any categories.

Then the big lady walked away, and the woman in line behind me asked me, "Did she invite you?" I told her no, she hadn't, maybe because I'm not black. The woman shook her head and said, "That ain't right."

Then it was my turn to check out, and I left the dollar store, but kept thinking about those ladies and Black History Month and how history is history, no matter who it happened to. We are all Americans, black or white, and we share a past just as we share a future.

Scissors and Thieves

2011-01-29T12:20:00.002-05:00

Add to the list of random things my husband has at the moment I need them: a cardboard mailing tube, a pitchfork, thick brown wrapping paper, and a long metal ruler. He can also fix pretty much everything. A few weeks ago when I was visiting my parents' house, my mom sent me home with a round-bottomed copper bowl, used for chilling and whipping cream. It had a good-sized dent in it, and she wanted to know if my husband could fix it. Dents are tricky, but using a cushion of towels, an old softball, and a wooden mallet, C massaged the dent away until it was all but gone. He enjoys doing stuff like that, and is always looking for a new project. Unfortunately, I think I reached the limit of his skills this week, when I knocked my prized Gingher scissors off the sewing table, causing them to land hard on the wood floor and form a little burr on the blade. "You're going to have to take them to a professional sharpener," he said to me. I was already practically in tears because they are my best (and most expensive) scissors, still practically new, and I felt so bad for being careless. Then, surprised that my husband wasn't able to fix them, I was forced to confront the fact that he can't do everything. He's spoiled me up until now! But where do you get scissors sharpened?

Meanwhile, C has had problems of his own, trying to secure the yard from scrap-metal thieves, who snuck into our yard and took a few things last week, while we were in the house. Our neighborhood is full of empty houses, easy targets for thieves who steal and sell metal wires, pipes, and whatever else they can get their hands on. They were probably running out of houses to loot and thought our yard looked like easy pickings, with C's collection of old drainpipes, bales of wire, and metal roof sheeting, there for the taking. My dad said, "Oh, you got rid of some stuff!" which is true, but I would rather sell it myself and get the $2.50 (seriously, why not get a job instead?--scrap metal foraging does NOT seem worth it to me) than have strangers sneak into my yard (and possibly my house!) to get it.

So we've been thinking of ways to secure our little homestead, and this was the list I made of possible solutions:

1. Get a mean guard dog
2. Put up better fences
3. Set booby traps
4. Put all our metal items in one pile and electrify them
5. Put up motion/infrared detecting alarms
6. Put up video cameras, or signs saying we have them
7. Spend a lot of time doing target practice in the backyard so everyone knows we have guns

I like the booby-trap idea (covered pits, bear-traps, etc.), but apparently they are against the law. So are pellet guns in Durham, as it turns out. In fact, I don't think you can really do anything to hurt a trespasser these days, because they can sue you, even if it is their fault for trespassing. But this whole incident has made me think that it might not be a bad idea to brush up on my shooting skills and get licensed to carry a weapon, in case anyone were to break into the house. Meanwhile, I think the motion/infrared detecting alarms are the best solution. C's idea? He cut down the brush in the woods behind our house, put up No Trespassing signs where the men came onto our property. Then, underneath one of the signs, he hung a dead squirrel. So far, the thieves haven't come back.

New Year!!!

2011-01-14T09:13:00.002-05:00

Well, I'm a little late, because I've been so bad about blog writing lately, but anyway, I just want to write down my New Year resolutions because they always say that if you write stuff down then you are more likely to do it. So...

1. Do my visiting teaching. I'm assigned to visit one woman in my church--just one! And yet for six months I have not visited her. I have no excuses. I resolve to visit her every month this year. (And actually, I'm off to a good start on this one, because I visited her last night.)

2. Do family history. I'm really excited about genealogy, and always have been, but with a really bad internet connection, it's pretty impossible to work online at home, and I'm too lazy to drive to the family history center, so for Christmas I bought C a new computer (well, it's for both of us) and we are going to sign up for our very own internet connection so we no longer have to steal the neighbor's, and then I'll be all set to go online and research both my family tree and his. I'm excited about doing his! Also, we have afternoon church now, so what better way to spend my Sunday mornings than doing family history, or indexing so that others can do theirs?

3. Go to the temple. This is a personal goal that I won't really talk much about here, but it's something I want to do and plan to do soon. I think it will make a big difference in my life.

So those are my goals, and I don't think they are overwhelming or anything, so I should have no problems, as long as I remember them and stay focused.

Meet Me At the Met

2011-01-02T19:03:00.002-05:00

Even if you don't live in New York City, I encourage you to become a member of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Not only will your contribution help care for an immense collection of the world's finest treasures, but you will receive the quarterly Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin. Catching up on my periodicals, I've been reading mine from Fall 2010, devoted to highlights from among the museum's recent acquisitions. With gorgeous photos and captions written by the Met's experts, I feel like I've spent an afternoon strolling through the museum itself, though I haven't had to leave my comfortable chair.

Auld Lang Syne

2011-01-01T10:26:00.002-05:00

The turn of the new year is always magical. For some reason, we as people like to mark days, record time's passage, and celebrate the closing of another chapter and the opening of a vast, unwritten page. It's also amazing to look back at a past year and remember everything that happened in that space of 365 days.

For me, this time of year now holds even more significance, as I look back at last New Year's Day, and remember that it was the day that I acted on a most incredible feeling. Home from New York City for the holidays, I had suddenly and unexpectedly been struck by the knowledge that I was going to marry my longtime friend, C. I explained it to him on New Year's Day, as we sat together on a desperately cold winter night, warmed by the fireplace inside the art gallery where he worked. The gallery was closed for the night, dark and still, but comfortingly full of beautiful artwork, made more intriguing by the firelight. However, C and I had our minds only on the future, and then-unknown possibilities. Could it work? How? Was it crazy?

Nothing was settled, but when I arrived back in New York the next day, I couldn't keep it from my roommates. "The strangest thing has happened, and I think I'm going to get married soon!" Nevermind the fact that C and I had never dated. I just knew, as certain as I knew my name, that it was going to happen. And it did. Six months ago we were married, and each day since then has been a treasure. It's hard to explain spiritual gifts, but this year I feel I have been inundated with them. My husband is a blessing, a wonder to me, an incredible gift, as well as a challenge. This year I was reminded that God knows me, has a plan for me, and has more blessings and miracles for me, if I will only look to Him.

Last night C built a fire in the backyard, and we sat together in its light, with warm hands and warm hearts, amazed at everything. Sometimes we feel like children, led along by a great Father, who we trust. Childlike, we listened to all the fireworks going off in the neighborhoods around us, the sirens, the lights, the loud booms and crashes, and we were thankful to be there together.

The Christmas Wrap Up

2010-12-28T18:50:00.002-05:00

Another Christmas has come and gone, and this one quite memorable for a few reasons. First of all, it was my first Christmas as a married person. One of my wishes came true when we got our Christmas tree. C got it to please me, but I know he loves having it just as much as I do. Now he doesn't even turn the tree lights off at night, but we keep them on all the time, because it's such a pretty sight. The gift-giving was multiplied, but C did all the shopping. I thought I could make all my gifts, but of course I ran out of time. Anyway, we picked names in my family, and so we were only supposed to buy one gift, but C couldn't resist getting something for everyone, so when we drove up to my mom and dad's house on Christmas Eve, C had a Santa hat on his head and our car loaded with gifts. My nieces and nephews were overjoyed to see him, not just because of the gifts. He's their favorite uncle by far, the only one that will play games with them, carry them up into the tree-house, and run around the yard with. The kids were adorable, but little did we know that they carried a horrible secret...

After a wonderful Christmas Eve spent with my family, C and I spent the next afternoon and evening, Christmas Day, with his family. It was a lot of fun. So much delicious food, and the anticipation of snow in the air. His family is delightful. We arrived home late and went to bed, and three hours later I awoke as sick as sick can be. Ugh. A day or two later, my dad called and said that he, my mom, and my two sisters were all sick too. We'd caught it from my littlest cutest niece, who'd had it two days before Christmas Eve, and apparently these things are still contagious after the symptoms manifest.

Nobody likes being sick, but its worst of all when its a stomach bug and you've just eaten a huge Christmas dinner. Not to mention the scads of leftover cookies, pies, meats, and breads that you've been sent home with, and all the gifts of chocolate, nuts, and candies, which you now cannot enjoy. As the snow started covering the land, I moaned with agony, and have been too sick to eat anything but pretzels for the past three days. It's not fair! When everyone else was out making snowmen and sliding down hills on saucers, I was in a cocoon of blankets, sleeping all day and all night. Only today did I finally begin to feel a little better, to finally venture outside, to get out of bed for more than just a few minutes.

But the snow is already almost all melted away. The weekend half-lost. All the things I was going to do, undone still. Sigh! It was a really great Christmas nonetheless. I was able to enjoy both family get-togethers before getting sick, and now I've had three lovely days in bed watching TV and movies, with a wonderful man doting on me. I've read half a book, crocheted half a hat, and best of all, C is feeling fine. I guess he was blessed for being such a fun, kind uncle.

Stuff

2010-12-15T17:08:00.002-05:00

I know I complain about all the stuff that C hoards, that is filling up our house, but there are times when his propensity for collecting comes in handy. Every time I need something, he miraculously has it! No need to go shopping for random things. Whenever I ask him for something, he just goes into another room, roots around for a few minutes, then appears with the thing I needed. So far he has provided me, on the spot, with: bay leaves, tiny earrings with real silver backs, pads of paper, a metallic gold pen, a knob for my crock pot, Christmas tree lights, and tapes of Christmas music.

It's Christmas Time

2010-12-12T15:45:00.002-05:00

Finally! I'm going to try to start posting pictures of Durham churches, to follow my tradition of posting Harlem churches every Sunday when I lived in New York. I picked this one for today, partly because I already had a picture of it, and also because if you look carefully up at the very top, there is a tiny window and, though it's hard to see from my picture, the window has a nativity scene etched in the glass, with a manger and a star.

Yes, it's that time again! Christmas is almost here, and my mood has been very festive since Thanksgiving, when my sister-in-law gave me and C a handmade wreath bedecked in hollyberries, pine boughs, and spotted feathers. We hung the wreath on our front door, and then a week later it snowed, making the Christmas music on the radio all the more apt. At work, we had a big holiday open-house for our customers, friends, and family, and spent the entire week decorating a huge tree and making all sorts of last-minute decorating projects. Then, at church, we had our ward Christmas party, and C and I were in charge of coordinating the food. It was fun shopping for industrial-sized amounts of cider and hot cocoa, and manning the refreshment table to make sure no kids burnt their hands on the pot of hot water for the cocoa. I got to see children helping themselves to heaping portions of marshmallows as if it were a side dish. C voluntarily washed everyone's baking dishes after the entire table full of food was consumed, while ward-members performed talents on stage, decorated cookies in the back of the gym, and Santa himself made an appearance at the end. My mom told me that her ward party was going to center around "A Walk To Bethlehem" where successive rooms of the church would be decorated with the scenes of the story of Christ's birth, and kids would reverently go along and see all of them. Our party was more of a raucous hullabaloo, probably a result of all the sugary foods, but it was a lot of fun.

But outside the party, it was a rainy, dreary winter Saturday and, besides Christmas, my mind has been occupied with the tragedy of a wayward sibling. There's not much I can do about the situation--I've already given all the advice I have to give, and not even sure that it's welcome--so all I can do is pray, try to be a good example, and be available for any help or support that other family members might need. Sometimes I feel like doing something dramatic to try to fix the situation, but then again, I don't know that anything can really fix it except the person whose decisions are affecting the family peace. Then I wonder if I could have been a better sister, stayed in closer touch or given advice that would have prevented what has happened, but I don't know that, either. All I know is that from my own experience, keeping the Lord's commandments are the only way to find happiness, and I cannot keep them for another person. They must find that out on their own. But how hard it must be to be a parent and see your beautiful children falter and fumble in life and make horrible decisions and mistakes! I wonder if it seems like a waste, or if it is somehow possible to retain hope that your children will turn around, wake up, and become better? Certainly, it is possible, but it must be so hard. I know it's hard enough just being a sister!

Meanwhile, my own tiny family of me and my husband is doing wonderfully, and despite the wintry weather, we went and got a Christmas tree. Speaking of people changing, C has lived in this house for 16 years and never had a Christmas tree. I guess he didn't feel like making room for one, or going to the trouble for just himself. Yet I somehow convinced him that he could move a huge pile of his stuff into another room and thus clear a perfect space in our little family-room for a tree. He did it, and we brought home a lovely little Fraser Fir, which is now all bedecked in colored lights and flashy baubles. When he set it up in it's stand, the tree was still all tightly bound up, as it had been for travel, and C told me to wait until it relaxed and opened before decorating it, but I just couldn't wait. I found a radio station playing Christmas music, and set about rediscovering all my treasured ornaments--some handmade by my mother during her first year of marriage--while C brought down some of his own from the attic. When it was all done, he looked at it with wonder, like a kid for whom last Christmas was eons away and so everything about Christmas is new and amazing again. Not only is it his first tree in this house, but our first Christmas together. For that, I feel so blessed and happy. So, despite the weather and family drama, I'm going to enjoy this season! Sitting here, warm beneath blankets, beside my twinkly tree, my husband nearby, I feel perfectly content.

Thankful

2010-11-28T16:34:00.002-05:00

This Thanksgiving season, I'm thankful for so much!

I'm thankful for my husband. One year ago, I had no idea I would ever get married, and I was just enjoying my life in New York, without a real plan. But the Lord had a plan and opened my eyes, and I've never been happier than I am now with my beloved C, who is a genuinely honest and principled man, a gem. He constantly cares for me, makes me laugh, and loves me like crazy. This morning we both woke up before the sun was up and just stayed in bed talking for about three hours until we had to get up or we'd be late for church. I have the feeling that if given the chance, we could just sit and talk to each other without losing interest for several days or more. And often, on Saturday mornings, he makes me a pancake breakfast in bed!

I'm thankful for my family. My parents are so wonderful, and my brothers and sisters teach me so much. And now I have a whole new extended family with C's relatives. We went over to his brother's house for Thanksgiving dinner and had a wonderful time talking with them. I admire his brother and sister-in-law's desire to adopt children from Africa, and I love the creativity and energy of his niece and nephew, as well as the wisdom and kindness of his parents. My new sister-in-law made us a gorgeous bent-wood wreath with holly, pine, and feathers on it. The day after Thanksgiving, we went to my parents' house and spent time with my mom and dad, my brother, and with my sister and her family. Her four kids immediately glommed onto C and he spent the next 4 hours tirelessly playing games with them. They are the cutest kids! And every time I go home, my parents have their arms open, wanting to know how they can help me and C in any way. I aspire to that kind of kindness and generosity.

I'm thankful for the gospel of Jesus Christ and how it blesses my life. I know where I come from, why I am here, and where I will go after I die. I know that I can repent and be forgiven of sins, and I know that I am a child of a loving Heavenly Father, whose son Jesus died to atone for the world's sins. I know there is a prophet, and that he teaches the truth, and I know that the truth can be found in scriptures, both ancient and modern. If I follow the truth, I can be reunited with my family and with Jesus after death. This knowledge gives me so much comfort and direction in my life, and I know it has saved me from a lot of sadness.

I'm thankful for the beautiful earth. C and I often go hiking, and even though the woods are brown and barren seeming this time of year, and the air is cold, the earth still has so much beauty to offer. Our garden is dead and withered, but in the backyard a huge camellia bush has begun blossoming, and the flowers are large and pink and gorgeous. Birds fill the air with color and song, squirrels chatter and play, and the days have been so sunny.

I'm thankful for my job. Since C lost his job in September, I've become the breadwinner in our family, but I make enough money to support us in all of our needs, and not only that, I really love what I do. Me working gives C the opportunity to accomplish much-needed repair and maintenance on our house. I bring home tons of fabric with which to make things really cute things for my home, my relatives, and to sell. My coworkers are fun and friendly, and I have really enjoyed learning some new skills.

I'm thankful for my health, which is strong, and for C's health. I'm so thankful for my generous, happy, fun, and interesting friends. I'm thankful for delicious food, for a warm home, and for television. I'm thankful for well-written books, my sewing machine, good neighbors, and the fact that no mice live in my house! There are so many things I am thankful for, and so few things I lack. I thank my Heavenly Father for all these blessings, and hope that everyone might be similarly blessed.

The Bachelorette: Cat Edition

2010-11-20T14:41:00.004-05:00

Just as I predicted, the neighbor's cute little gray kitten that used to spend all day pouncing on things in our backyard has grown up into a slender gray siren, and is currently attracting every male cat within a mile radius. She rolls around in the piles of oak leaves that C has raked up, and purrs invitingly at her suitors, who lurk in all the bushes. So far there are three principal tomcats vying for her attention, and I'm accepting bets on which one will become the baby-daddy. Bachelor #1 is white with dark gray spots, and may or may not belong to the guy who lives two doors down from us, who comes out at dusk and calls "Kittykittykitty." Bachelor #2 is a short-haired gray guy, who seems tidy enough to be someone's housecat. Bachelor #3, who C is betting on, has long gray Persian fur, and has been a long-time stray in this area. A year or two ago he had a hurt paw and was so bedraggled he looked like a dustmop, C tells me, but he's looking fine now, and since he doesn't belong to anyone, he hangs around here the most. All three of them constantly chase the gray lady-cat around and when she gets exhausted from the attention, she hides in the rafters of our garage. Meanwhile, C takes shots at all the males with his bb gun, just to scare them away but, nevertheless, our yard has turned into a cat soap opera.

The cat's don't bother me so much, though I'm torn between wishing the neighbor would get his cat fixed and anticipation at the idea of having adorable gray kittens being born, probably, in the crawl space under our house. Kittens are so cute!!! I'm mostly just hoping that the freshly turned dirt in my garden beds doesn't become a giant litter box for all these gentlemen cat-callers. I've been weeding and turning the earth, so it will be ready for spring planting. I've also been investing in spring: planting daffodil and tulip bulbs in little clumps around the backyard. It was a warm sunny morning today, and felt so good to be outside working the land. We still haven't had our first frost, and there are still some hardy mosquitoes out there; you can be sure they found me. C did battle with the fence on one side of the property, and replaced some old wooden posts with metal ones. The sound of his cursing, as he extricated wire and wood from the tangles of ivy, kudzu and barbed ilex, drifted on the breeze and mixed with chickadee tweets, wind-chimes, Latin music, and the sounds of kids playing somewhere in the distance. But when he's done with a project like that, the frustration instantly melts away, replaced with satisfaction and pride. We have a stronger fence now, and in the spring-time we'll have lovely flowers. And kittens.

The Glass Castle

2010-11-17T18:09:00.002-05:00

For book club this month, we read The Glass Castle, a memoir by Jeannette Walls. Unfortunately, I got completely mixed up and thought book club was tonight, not last night, so last night I was curled up in my bed, finishing the book. It would have made for a great book club discussion, but from what I heard, several of my friends didn't like the book very much. I actually liked it a lot.

Jeannette Walls tells the story of her childhood--a tale of incredible survival. She seems to honestly report memories of being raised as one of the four children of a pair of grifters. Her alcoholic father could never hold down a job or money to support his family, and her free-spirited artist mother neglected her children's basic needs in order to pursue her own flights of fancy. The children were fending for themselves from the time they could walk. Jeannette recalls being able to cook herself rice on the stove when she was 3 years old, which in itself isn't a bad thing, but when she gets burned and hospitalized, then busted out of the hospital by her parents in the middle of the night so they don't have to pay the bill, the reader starts to see the problem.

With Jeannette's mom and dad it was feast or famine--small periods of stability when her dad would get a job and they'd enroll in school, like the one in Arizona that gave the kids free bananas, then times when the family was living in a rotten rat-infested house on the side of a freezing West Virginia mountain with no plumbing, electricity, or telephone. When the kids miraculously found a diamond ring in their dirt yard one day, their mom declared she'd rather keep it for her self esteem than sell it to buy food, of which they had none. On one hand, you curse the dad and mom for being such horrible examples, and then you admire the fact that they taught their kids to read and write at age 3, do their math homework in binary code, and to think about things like planets, geology, and polar exploration.

The book is written so well, the reader rolls right through, seamlessly transported through experience after jaw-dropping experience highlighting the struggle these kids had to grow up. It reminded me of a tragic Little House on the Prairie. The memories were sad, but engaging and enlightening, so I can say that I enjoyed the book while I certainly do not condone the parenting style it described.

The kids do survive and three out four seem to turn into amazingly talented, successful people, especially the author. At age 17 she follows her older sister to New York, becomes a journalist, and goes to Barnard College. Meanwhile, her parents become homeless on the streets of New York City, but seem to enjoy it just as much as anything else they did in their lives, and it's hard to feel sorry for them at all. One of my favorite parts in the book is when Jeannette relates a college class she was in, where her professor was talking about homelessness. The teacher asked the question whether homelessness is a result of drug abuse or the lack of proper social security and economic opportunities. Jeannette answered that she felt it is sometimes neither, that "people get the lives they want." Her professor became angry and asked, "What do you know about the hardships and obstacles that the underclass face?" and Jeannette, a bit ashamed of her past at that point, and unwilling to expose herself, did not explain that she knew firsthand. I think this book is her way of finally explaining to that teacher, and the rest of the world. Sometimes I would stop reading and wonder how she could be so honest about everything, and wonder if there were even darker memories that were just too painful to write down, but then, some of the things she shares are so horrible, I don't know that she could have experienced much worse.

The title comes from a grand scheme Jeannette's father had, or at least a tall tale he told his children. He was working on the plans for a glorious mansion he was going to build, all of glass, powered by solar cells, where his family could live in luxury and self-sufficiency. It struck me that a glass castle was an apt metaphor for the bubble of artificial security that Jeannette's parents built around the family, a fragile gloss that was so transparent and easily broken every time they betrayed their children's trust.

I liked this book because it had a happy ending for Jeannette and her siblings, so it was in many ways a satisfying story of growth and the overcoming of obstacles. There were small moments of fun, adventure, and redemption throughout. I also liked it because it opened my eyes to the fact that there are people in the United States probably still living like Jeannette did, in similarly crazy families, in conditions that would shock us. I wondered if being separated into foster families would have been better or worse for these kids, who formed their own team against the world early on, and loved and protected each other. It made me remember being a kid and how there were always certain kids at school that didn't really fit in because of what they wore or how they smelled, and I wonder why other kids are so cruel and don't realize that children are entirely dependent on their parents for everything. I also thought about alcohol addiction, and this book only added fuel to my belief that alcohol is one of the most dangerous and destructive substances on earth. I read with interest about the author's final conflict: a woman with a Park Avenue address has homeless parents. What would I do in that situation? What would I have done as a child in such a family? Would I have even survived to the age of 7 with such a life?

I admire the author and am inspired that she could become so successful after such a childhood, and wonder how much of that success came from the strength she gained from growing up fast and struggling to survive. Nature or nurture? Not all poor neglected kids turn out great, and not all rich pampered kids do.

So, I guess I liked the book mostly because it was so well written and engaging, because it inspired me, and because it was so thought-provoking. It illuminated a slice of American life I might never have known about otherwise, and real life fascinates me. If this book had been fiction, I would not have believed it, but because it is true, I am fascinated.

Shoes

2010-11-14T15:55:00.003-05:00

My husband and I bought matching slippers yesterday. As she rang them up, the checkout lady at the shoe store eyed us and said, "Ya'll are too cute." But I couldn't help it. We were actually at the store looking for some sensible shoes for me, because all I have are high heels, flip flops, a pair of running shoes, and a pair of boots. I need something normal, that I can wear with socks, to book club or to the grocery store. But while I was trying to justify a pair of cute Pumas or some low-top Converse, C went over to the men's section and started putting on fleece-lined suede slippers. He needed some, and the price was good. And they looked so comfortable and warm that I went over and dug out a pair of men's size 7 that just barely were small enough to stay on my feet and announced that I was getting some too. I didn't get any sneakers, but that's okay. My feet are warm and cozy right now.

On the way home from the store, we passed a couple out for a late-afternoon walk, and they were wearing identical hooded sweatshirts. "Are we going to turn into one of those couples that dresses alike all the time?" I laughingly asked. "Only if you start wearing ripped up camouflage pants and pocket T-shirts," he said.

Randoms

2010-11-10T21:00:00.002-05:00

1. Hopefully I'm not getting a sinus infection. I've had allergies pretty much since the beginning of September, but I hate taking pills because they make me feel like I'm sleepwalking, so I just suffer, and some days are better than others, but today I feel like I'm really getting sick. Ugh.

2. Is it possible that an oven thermometer is wrong? I'm still getting to know my new/old oven here at my new/old house and the thermometer reads about 50 degrees higher than the knob on the oven, which seems crazy, so who do I believe? It does seem like my cookies are taking longer to bake when I obey the oven thermometer, but maybe I've always had hot ovens. Anyway, just so you know, you can't put under-baked cookies back in the oven after they've been out for a while. It just never works.

3. It's time to make a list of things to make people for Christmas!!!! Hopefully there is still enough time to make everything.

An Update

2010-11-01T18:22:00.003-04:00

What's new? Well, C continues to work on the kitchen, which is great, but there is still no where for the home teachers to sit. They want to come over soon, but I don't know what to tell them, and now it's getting too cold to sit out on the porch. The days are sunny but brisk now, and yet we still have not turned the heat on in the house. Instead, we have about 8 blankets on the bed, and space heaters, and I bake as often as I can. But mostly I have been sewing--making things for Christmas gifts, because it's coming up soon! I'm going to make all my gifts this year, if possible, and since there are a lot of people I want to give things to, I'd better start now.

Work is great--I've learned how to operate the fabric printers, which is very exciting. It can be either very rewarding or very frustrating depending on whether or not they decide to work properly. They are very temperamental. Half of them are named after Three Stooges and the other half after Star Trek characters. Then there is Edna, the only girl, and I have no idea who she is named after. They like humid air, so the print room is rather dank at times, but it doesn't bother me, because I get so caught up in the printing process that I become focused and addicted, and I don't even want to stop for lunch. "Just one more print!" I say, but there is never an end to them.

We printed a lot of bacon fabric recently, I think for Lady Gaga meat dress Halloween costumes. So much bacon fabric! I didn't do anything for Halloween. I was super tired that night, and knew I was going to be useless, so I just got into my pajamas around 8 and watched TV and ate popcorn. C went to visit his mom and dad, so I was home alone, and then the doorbell rang! I remembered that I'd turned on the porch light, like usual, having forgotten about trick-or-treaters. And I think it must have been some sad kids out there, because I didn't answer the door. For one thing, I didn't have any candy, and for another thing I couldn't open the front door if I wanted to because it is nailed shut. That is one of the things I'm trying to get my husband to change about the house, but it is a pretty sketchy neighborhood, and I know he doesn't want anyone to break in again. Still, it would be nice to eventually open it for guests, at least. Meanwhile, I was quiet until I heard the kids leave and drive away and then I turned off the porch light. So sad!

The other sad thing is our yard, which is in need of some tlc. I know it's getting to be winter, and everything is going to be dead anyway, but I'm vowing now to go outside and weed for at least a half hour every day when I come home from work. Then things will be in better shape in the spring, and my husband and I can plant things then. He's been lamenting about how wild it all looks, but I rather like a wild garden, and it doesn't bother me when plants get out of control.

I'm really loving life right now, loving being married, and loving the time that my husband and I spend together. Sometimes we make a fire in the backyard and roast hot dogs and marshmallows, and sometimes we do more mundane things like Saturday night when I cut his hair for the first time. I'm kind of impressed that I was able to do it, and he didn't hate it, either. He just hated sitting still, but what boy doesn't?

So, that's the news. I know, I know... I'll try to write more often!

Testimony

2010-10-22T18:26:00.005-04:00

This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.
~Walt Whitman, "A Clear Midnight"

This week I've been thinking a lot about death and life. When a friend or family member dies, it forces you to decide what you believe in. Are you going to see that person again? Where are they now? What do they think, and what are they doing? Being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (aka Mormon), I've been taught things about life and death since I was a child. Still, when faced with the crisis, I now decide to accept or reject the things I've been taught. I accept them, for several reasons. Here I will give a few of the main ones.

I guess the first reason would be because it sounds great. LDS believe that after someone dies, that isn't the end, but the spirit lives on, reunited with spirits of ancestors and friends, and waits until the final moment when Christ returns to the Earth and everyone is resurrected. We believe that this spirit world is very similar to our world, and that spirits there can continue learning. For example, if they never heard about Jesus on earth, they can learn about him there, and accept or reject his gospel. So anyway, it's comforting to think that death doesn't just mean lights out, the end. To think that I can see my loved ones again makes me happy, and I want to believe that I will.

Second, it makes sense to me. With my belief in a loving God who is actually a Heavenly Father, I believe that he would not make us just for this earth life alone. Such an existence would not be very meaningful to him, and why would he put so much effort into teaching and schooling us if there is nothing after this. It makes sense to me that if there is a God, then there is life for us with him at some point after this life.

Third, I believe because I trust the people who have taught me. My parents are honest people, and they have shared with me the most personal moments in their lives, when the veil that separates this life from the spirit world has become so thin that they have seen for themselves that there is life beyond mortality. To deny it would be to call them liars. The same goes for prophets, both old and new, who have testified of life after death, which becomes possible because of Christ's atonement for our sins and his resurrection. I believe the prophets, and I believe in Jesus.

Fourth, and perhaps most importantly, I believe because I just do. There is a spiritual part of me that asks questions, seeks, feels, and receives answers. Many others believe in the Holy Spirit, by which it becomes possible to receive inspiration, answers, and comfort from God. To some it comes as a voice, to others just a warm good feeling. For me it is a good feeling, a clearness of thought, a burst of happiness from deep within, and a confirmation inside of myself that answers the question I'm asking. It's very hard to explain this sometimes, and I know that for others it can be much more of a struggle to receive answers and feel faith in things they don't understand. Death is very hard to understand, and separation from a loved one is painful enough to cloud the mind and heart for a long time.

However, I know that after winter comes the spring, after trials come blessings, and after hard work comes reward. Thus, somehow, after death comes life again.

I was thinking the day most splendid, till I saw what the not-day exhibited,
I was thinking this globe enough, till there sprang out so noiseless around me myriads of other globes.

Now, while the great thoughts of space and eternity fill me, I will measure myself by them;
And now, touch’d with the lives of other globes, arrived as far along as those of the earth,
Or waiting to arrive, or pass’d on farther than those of the earth,
I henceforth no more ignore them, than I ignore my own life,
Or the lives of the earth arrived as far as mine, or waiting to arrive.

O I see now that life cannot exhibit all to me—as the day cannot,
I see that I am to wait for what will be exhibited by death.
~Walt Whitman, "Night on the Prairies"

DLF

2010-10-20T18:26:00.003-04:00

There was no one in the world like her. Seriously, is there anyone else who hates cinnamon? She loved dance movies, dance television shows, and we shared a huge crush on the American Idol contestant Constantine Maroulis. She loved Las Vegas, the color red, the Bob & Sheri radio show, sushi, grilled peaches, and bald tattooed guys. She had a passion for helping others, especially children. She worked with sight-impaired kids, and knew sign language and could read braille. She was always where there was work to be done. The last time I saw her, she was helping prepare a meal for over 400 people, just because she wanted to help a friend out. She was so excited about my wedding, calling it "the event of the year" but at the reception she rolled up her sleeves and helped out in the kitchen. She was faithful and religious, but so funny. She would gripe about having so many church responsibilities, saying "if only the Jewish side had won!" but I took great strength from her testimony and dedication. I had immense admiration for her, so much love, and enjoyed her friendship so much. I never thought there would be a time when I couldn't make plans to go to Shiki Sushi with her and the gang, or chat with her about the latest funny thing we'd heard on Bob & Sheri. In your thirties, you don't expect your friends to die. I'm going to miss her so much.

Exploration

2010-10-13T21:38:00.003-04:00

The days were getting shorter and colder, and I begged to turn on the heat in the house, but instead my husband just put two more wool blankets on the bed and offered me a selection of fine aged flannel shirts to wear. I drove to my parents house and got all my sweaters out of their attic, and put away all my summer dresses and skirts. Then, a few days later, it was 87 degrees again and I found myself chasing the ice cream truck down the street because I thought I was going to die if I didn't have something frozen to eat. Such is the fickle nature of the Southern autumn.

Sunday was a warm and gorgeous fall day, and C and I decided to explore our neighborhood. We had heard tell of a new renovated pedestrian bridge that crosses a major highway near our house, and so we set out to find it. An hour later, sweaty, dirty, and clutching our knives (we have to arm ourselves in my neighborhood--or at least we feel better if we do) a seemingly dead-end street on the wrong side of the tracks led us to our destination, and we stood atop the R. Kelly Bryant, Jr. Bridge, feeling the refreshing breeze from semi-trucks speeding below us, and gazed at the romantic Durham skyline. But we didn't cross the bridge, because on the opposite side there was a sketchy looking man with a bottle in a brown bag, just loitering. The main reason for renovating the bridge, I heard, was to make the walls transparent so that people couldn't get mugged and beaten up on it without being seen by cars below, but we didn't want to test things.

Now, I may be painting a negative picture of my neighborhood and town, but I actually really love Durham, and I loved exploring my neighborhood with my husband. Walking, you see so many things you would never see in a car. We passed a cement factory with amazing huge cement-rendering vats protected by cement fences. We saw what used to be a huge train yard, where the depot is now a "green" flea market space. When we passed it, dozens of Mexican families were packing up what must have been a huge food-oriented gathering. We walked down shanty-lined streets, where the poorest tobacco-factory workers lived back in the 1930s and 40s, and where things haven't gotten much better. And we traversed streets of once-gorgeous Victorian houses, bedecked in crumbling gingerbread trim, now with broken windows and gaping holes. Someone's carefully constructed quartz-studded sidewalk is now cracked and edged with overgrown weeds. Some places in the middle of town felt like we were in a rural setting, the vines had so taken over. A red and white stucco church we passed made me feel like I was in a Mexican village, but the watchful eyes of a guard dog living on a tight leash under a porch brought me back to reality. People don't have much here, but they protect it fiercely. C and I both love to see the decay, the layers of time and weather, even though we wish things were better for the people and places on this side of town. We are fascinated with our neighborhood, even while alert for the danger it holds.

The pinecone-strewn trail leading away from the bridge brought us to a busy road, where a tattoo parlor vied with a beaux arts church for attention. A tattered awning fluttered from the side of the next nearest building, abandoned and caved in, but still bearing a trademark feature of this town: glass block windows, half broken, half gleaming in the brilliant autumn sun.

Playing Games

2010-10-08T21:17:00.006-04:00

Note to self: Never play Scrabble with an ex-con. My brother was in prison for a little while, and one of the things he was allowed to do in the clinker was play Scrabble. So of course he decided that if he was going to play, he was going to win, and he memorized all the two-letter and a lot of the three-letter words in the official Scrabble dictionary. If you challenge his words, he proves you wrong and you lose all your turns, until he plays nonsense words and you're too scared to challenge them. Sigh. I guess I'm not the Scrabble champion in my family any longer. But that's okay. I'm really happy that he has gained his Scrab-fabulous skills, and I think he ought to go compete at the Scrabble Championship games, which I'm sure exist somewhere.

"So why won't you play with him anymore then?" my husband asked me. "Just because you aren't going to win, you aren't going to play Scrabble?" Sigh... What fun is a game that you know you can't win? I'll stick to Scrabble Beta games on facebook with E and Peter (not that you can't beat me, E! You have many times), and long Sunday afternoon Scrabble games with my husband where we go to look up a word in his gigantic unabridged dictionary and end up poring over diagrams of battleships or beetles.

And maybe I'm a word snob, but I just think that if you play a word in Scrabble, you should know what it means. Half the fun of playing an obscure word is the look on faces of people who go, "What does tripe mean?" The rest of the fun comes when you reply with, "Oh, you know, a cow's stomach." It's funny 'cause it's true.

Anyway, maybe I'll play Scrabble with my brother again sometime. I'm really happy for him because he and his wife are expecting their first baby and they just found out it's going to be a girl! I'm happy because it's so much more fun to sew things for girls than boys. Dresses are a hundred times easier to make than collar-shirts, I discovered recently. In fact, I think I will have a hundred dresses made before I figure out how to fit the collar to the yoke on the shirt I'm trying to make for my nephew. What's a yoke, you ask? Well, you'll have to play Scrabble with me to find out.

Inadvertent Love Note

2010-10-01T11:03:00.003-04:00

Book club was last night, and the next month's reading selection was chosen, but it's too soon for this fast reader to begin it. Instead, I pulled a book of my husband's bookshelf and dug in. A few pages in, a bookmark fell out. It was a small Christmas card with a message... from me!

"Promise me you'll let me read these when you're done. Merry Christmas! Love, H" it said.

The book I was reading was one that I'd given C for Christmas about five or six years ago, when we were just coworkers and friends. I'd completely forgotten about it. Now, looking back, it filled me with awe to think of myself those years ago, ignorant of the future, and tenderness to think that C saved the note, not knowing we'd be married someday.

Then I thought, "Hey! How come he never let me borrow the books?!" and laughed.

Home Teaching

2010-09-29T19:26:00.005-04:00

I keep thinking of things to blog about, but the time has been going by so fast. I can't believe it's almost October! In my head I've composed posts on many and varied topics: the word bindle, the neighbor's crazy cat, mystery novels, money-making ideas, projects I've been working on... there just isn't time to write it all down. And then when I do get time, I end up writing a novel. I still have an unpublished post about seeing The Drums for the first time, when they came to Chapel Hill earlier this month. There was and is so much to say about it and them and that experience that I am still not finished writing about it, though it's become extremely long and, I'm afraid, unwieldy.

But I don't want the days to slip away unrecorded. There are some things about these times that I will not mind forgetting (the piles of boxes in this house that are driving me crazy, for example), but for the most part, C and I are having a wonderful time. And I continue to be surprised and amazed by him.

On Sunday, one of my Home Teachers came up to me and asked when a good time to visit would be. I suddenly panicked, but couldn't say anything because C was right there. My Visiting Teachers already know that instead of coming to visit me at home each month, it's better to meet at an ice cream place, for example. My house just is not presentable yet. In all the years that C has lived here, he has filled the rooms, hoarder style, with boxes of tools, books, pots and pans, etc. to the point that the place is bursting at the seams and there is hardly room to walk around, let alone sit down. If it were just up to me, I'd have it whipped into shape in a matter of days, but it drives C crazy to not know where anything is. He has to do it all himself. C knew that when we got married, things would have to eventually change--I believe a house should be comfortable, functional, clean and organized--but he has been changing very very slowly (in my mind) and while things are improving, the house is still claustrophobically cluttered, with corners I haven't even been able to reach, let alone dust yet, and definitely not ready for visitors. So, like I said, I panicked. While I nodded in agreement with a fake smile on my face when they asked if they could come for a visit on Tuesday, in my head I was freaking out. I looked at C out of the corner of my eyes, but he had no idea what was going through my head. He somehow didn't share my views on the situation, and calmly jotted down the man's name on his notepad. We went in to Sunday School, and I didn't hear a word the teacher spoke. My mind was reeling. What was I going to do? Should I cancel the visit? Could I hurry and rearrange and clean the house by Tuesday? Could I let them into the house as it was? No, I'd die!

After Sunday School, I couldn't keep silent anymore. I told C we needed to go outside and talk, so we did, and in the church parking lot I started to tell him how I felt about the house. I even cried. He didn't understand at all, and I spent the rest of the day trying to explain how I felt about people coming to the house with it looking this way, and I guess maybe it was our first real fight, even though there was no yelling or anything like that. We skipped the third hour of church and just drove home. I felt like a horrible, proud, ungrateful wife, and at the same time I believed I was right to want what I wanted. C maintained that anyone who came over to our house was entitled to think anything they want and he couldn't care less what it might be, because we are honest hardworking people with a new roof over our heads, and they ought to not judge. I agreed, but insisted that a house should, if possible, be kept neat and clean and reflect the personality of its residents, and also that guests should have a place to sit where they are not surrounded by mounds of boxes and assorted piles of things, with a view of cobwebs in unreachable places.

We talked it out for a long time, and then I went over to see my mom and dad. On the way to their house, it was rainy and foggy, but the sun hadn't set yet. I passed a farm, and saw a herd of deer running in the distance. One doe was pure white. Maybe I took it as an omen of peace or hope, but I already knew that everything was going to be all right.

I decided not to cancel the Home Teachers' visit, swallowing my pride, and C, swallowing his, started excavating what may eventually become our living room. It wasn't ready by Tuesday, but we compromised and decided to host our Home Teachers on the front porch, the most attractive section of our house at the moment. It was a fine evening and, despite a few noisy cars going by, it was pleasant and charming to sit out there, citronella candles burning, and the scent of autumn just barely beginning to creep through the neighborhood. On a whim, I whipped up a batch of chocolate chip cookies.

I'm so glad I didn't cancel the meeting. Our Home Teachers arrived and were more than happy to sit on the porch and talk. This was the first time we'd met them, so we spent the time just answering questions, telling them about us, talking about all sorts of things. The conversation inevitably turned to the church and the gospel, and C asked questions about the Book of Mormon. We talked about Joseph Smith, obedience, and faith. They bore their testimonies humbly, and shared several scriptures that related to the things we were talking about. When they left, I couldn't believe it had only been an hour--we seemed to have covered so much ground. C felt the opposite--he was left wanting more, and said he wished they had gotten even deeper into a religious discussion with even more meat to it. That made me smile with joy and surprise at my once-reclusive husband's willingness to receive visitors, talk about the gospel, and wish for more!

I learned a lesson this week, and I'm continuing to learn it. Some things are important, others are not.

The End of an Era

2010-09-19T20:56:00.002-04:00

After church, C and I kept on our nice clothes and went to a funeral. It wasn't the funeral of a person, but of an era, a place, a way of life. In 1972 a man with big dreams and big style opened a frame shop in Chapel Hill. A few years later, a young man stepped off his friend's motorcycle to answer a help wanted ad, and knowing nothing about framing at the time, learned a skill that kept him employed for the next twenty and more years. The frame shop became an art gallery, a jewel of fine art, glass, sculpture, and jewelry, and thrived with the booming eighties and nineties. Nine years ago, fresh out of college, I answered a help wanted ad at that art gallery. It was my first professional job, and I learned so much. My experience there propelled me to success in school and work in New York, and then brought me home again, to my husband, that boy on a borrowed motorcycle. My feelings about the gallery are a huge nostalgic mixture, and maybe they are larger than life, but I don't think I'm the only one who was sad to see the gallery go into Chapter 7 bankruptcy and eventually close this weekend with a public auction. I know a lot of people feel like the loss of such an amazing business is a tragedy, not just for this area, but for the artists spread all across the nation who sold work there. And why no bailout? Well, I won't go into politics. I just wanted to say how strange it was, how sad, and how sickening, to see the gorgeous gallery stripped of its finery yesterday, its every moveable part grabbed at, sold to the highest bidder in a feeding frenzy of a crowd, and then to see the place empty out to nothing but tipped pedestals, empty fast-food restaurant cups, and broken glass.

The Times They Are A Changing

2010-09-09T08:34:00.002-04:00

Since I've become a factory girl I go to bed early and wake up early. I don't fight sleep like I used to do--I am content to obey my closing eyes, lie down, and let myself rest. But in the hours between work and sleep, I have been making things. My sewing machine is on, fabric is strewn about, and I know I'm a simple old lady when the highlight of my week is treating myself to a brand new pair of Gingher chromed nickel dressmaking scissors with a serrated edge for excellent gripping. While I create things out of whole cloth, literally, my husband has been uncreating. The company where he works is bankrupt, he'll be out of a job by the end of the month. He feels responsible for the people who've paid for things, and so he works late into the night to finish picture frames. I admire his pride in his job. In one week everything will be sold at auction and there will be no more picture frames to make. The harder he works, the less there is left to do, and he is making sure that things are ended well. After 30 years of making frames, C won't make frames anymore. So, this week I'm happy about my first paycheck, and sad about his last one. Not because of the money, but the end of an era. The start of something new is always scary, too. And yet, we're in it together now, and I'm starting to wonder if that's not one more reason why we were put together at this time. Heaven knows.

Factory Girl

2010-09-03T08:18:00.002-04:00

Top Ten Things I Love About My New Job:

1. Work is close to home and C and I carpool. It's so nice to chat on the way to work and then see him pull up to get me at the end of the day.
2. I can listen to my ipod while I work. In the morning I load it up with podcasts of all my favorite radio shows. My work consists of cutting, packing, shipping, loading fabric into big machines, and stuff like that, which I can do with my headphones on. In fact, it's much more fun to work while listening to something, I think.
3. Fridge full of Diet Coke. Must try to restrain self. There is also a cupboard full of Wheat Thins, granola bars, and Sourpatch Kids.
4. I can wear whatever I want. I love to dress up, but it's nice to not have to.
5. I don't have to answer the phone. YES!!!!
6. Everyone is so nice!
7. I can take home all the fabric I want from the scrap pile (stuff that has slight errors in printing, stuff that was printed twice accidentally, stuff with mill seams, etc.) C set me up a sewing nook in the house and now I'm making clothes for my nieces and nephews, quilts, and all kinds of stuff! But I must try to only take home what I really love, because it would be so easy to go overboard and become a fabric hoarder.
8. I'm not in charge of anyone or anything. Secretly I always wanted a manual-labor job where I could just be a cog in the wheel of a machine, perfecting one part of the chain. That leaves me responsible only for my own work, which I find very satisfying. Does that make sense?
9. Surrounded by creativity. My favorite thing to do is cut the fabric, because it gives me the chance to see the amazing designs that artists have created.
10. Free lunch Fridays. Every week. And that means today!

Update

2010-08-25T08:15:00.002-04:00

I'll start blogging more regularly when I get internet hooked up at my house. The school/community center across the street used to provide a strong enough signal for me to use, but now it just doesn't work for some reason, and it's driving me crazy! However, I just started a new job, and I have to get here wicked early because C and I are sharing a car, so it gives me a few minutes to use the internet before I have to start working. My job is fun! I cut and pack fabric for a company that prints custom designs for people all over the world. Nothing high-powered or high-fallutin', I know, but I LOVE it! Because, what? Free fabric? Yes! I can have my pick of the scraps, cast-offs, rejects, stuff like that, and there's a ton of nice stuff. I can already see myself competing with C in the hoarding department. I've been trying to get him to clean out the house, but now I'm going to be just as bad, bringing home bags of fabric every day! No, I'll try not to go crazy. Anyway, my NYC trip went well, but I'm very happy to be back home, beginning a new chapter.

A Harlem Church

2010-08-15T17:48:00.002-04:00

I have been lazy and have not been posting church pictures on Sunday like I promised I would, but since I am back in Harlem this weekend, here is a Harlem church of note.

Riverside Church stands like a sentinel over Harlem, the tallest thing around. It's hard to fit it in the frame of my camera.

The carving is gorgeous and so is the ironwork on the massive doors.

Open ye the gates, that the righteous nation which keepeth the truth may enter in! (Isaiah 26:2)

I went to church in my old ward today, and was joyfully reunited with beloved friends. How wonderful to be part of a worldwide family, a sisterhood of love and charity. After church I wandered over to 135th Street, where Harlem had rolled out her finery in the annual Harlem Days celebration. Colorful fabrics, baskets, music, incense, jewelry, food, and entertainment were all there to be had, and I enjoyed it all.

A Different Kind of Alive

2010-08-13T23:53:00.003-04:00

I keep suddenly looking around at the walls and ceiling of this New York apartment where I used to live and thinking, "How did I get here?" A few days ago I was peacefully living with my husband in my new Durham North Carolina life and now suddenly I am back in New York, working at the job I escaped from five months ago. It could be a nightmare, you know? Or an episode of the Twilight Zone, where I come home from work and my apartment is the same but slightly different. The bedroom furniture that was mine since age 8 are in another woman's bedroom, filled with her clothes. A once-thriving plant that I potted in a beautiful yellow flowerpot sits in the front room, quietly dying. An old apron that I used to wear when baking hangs from a hook in the hallway, but I don't know if anyone ever wears it. I opened the hall closet and there was the metal rolling cart I used to move in and out of every New York apartment I ever had. Next to the kitchen sink is the gallon of dish-soap that E bought over a year ago when she and I lived in Harlem together, over on St. Nicholas Avenue. I'm predicting that soap will last another ten months. There are things here in this apartment that used to be part of my life, but really aren't anymore, except that I recognize them. When I leave, I'll leave them behind for the second time. Will I ever see them again? Who will they belong to then?

New York, I Remember You

2010-08-12T20:54:00.004-04:00

"You've grown skinnier since you got married," said Joe Cigar, as he handed me a neatly folded white paper sack. The aroma of warm chocolate-chip cookies hit me like an alarm clock, and I automatically reached in for a bite. Some things never change, I guess. I've been away for five months and when I come back, I still get cookies on Thursday. Why Thursday? I guess he knows that by the time a girl reaches Thursday, she just needs that little push to get her through the one long last day before Friday. Why Joe Cigar? He says I remind him of his daughter. I think he has a thing for girls smiling and eating cookies. C always tells me he enjoys watching me eat because I appear to love it so much, and maybe Joe Cigar feels the same way.

I was hoping for shortbread cookies from Sant Ambroeus, but he brought chocolate chip cookies from Macchiato, newly opened around the corner. And he was right--it's much too hot and humid for good shortbread right now. The chocolate chip cookies were fat and decadent, fudgy and crisp at the same moment, somehow. As rich and overwhelming as New York City itself.

But New York and I have a thing. We get each other. It pushes me and I push back a little, then I give in and fall into the city rhythm. In some ways it's like I never left, and then sometimes I look around and wonder how I got here. Buildings as far and high as sight will reach, endless people, smells I forgot existed, the most amazing clothes, an utter lack of silence, a never-ending list of happenings, an infinite menu. Yes, I do enjoy food! What else is there for a good Mormon girl to indulge in?

After work, my feet walked to the subway and got on the train while my mind paid no attention. I just knew the way. I found myself wearing my New York face, avoiding eye contact with people, reading my Raymond Chandler novel as the train slowly chugged its way up west Manhattan, as if an old book was so much more interesting than the living breathing pulsing metropolis all around me. But it's okay because NYC and me are old friends, the kind you don't even really need to talk to much because you already know as much as you can or want to know about each other, and usually you're content just to hang out.

Jetting

2010-08-11T08:35:00.007-04:00

Goodbye city of Durham, for a little while. City of medicine, city of tobacco, city of red bricks, glass block windows, abandoned factories, boarded windows, train whistles, crows, my new home. Durham has charmed me with its dusty gap-toothed smile, and I'm going to miss it for the next ten days. And I'm going to miss my husband even more.

I've been summoned to New York on a secret mission! No, actually, my old boss just needed a project done and didn't want to bother training someone new when he knew I could do it blindfolded. And since I'm still jobless and penniless, I jumped at the chance for a free trip to New York for a week to earn some money. Plus I'll get to see old friends, and go to old favorite places. Sant Ambroeus, I'm already salivating! The upside: good money, New York, New York food, New York friends. The downside: I'm going to miss my husband, I'm going to be away from him on my birthday, and I know he's going to miss me. It all happened so suddenly that there wasn't even time for us to think about it, which is why I found myself crying at the airport this morning. It's not as if I'm being deployed to a foreign country for 2 years (how do they do it?) It's only ten days, but everything is different now that I'm married, and so newly. I'm not just a loner anymore, a free spirit that can wander around at will, no ties. My heart is bound up with his, and ten days apart seems momentous.

Last night C found a sphinx moth on the front porch and put it in a jar so I could see it. It lay still next to a leaf, trying to blend it's patchy gray wings in with the twigs and leaves that C had stuck in the jar to make it feel more at home. When it got dark, he set it free, and once it figured out which way to go, the large moth flew out of the protective jar into the perilous night. The moth is free and so am I, but I'm already wishing I were on my way home.

Projects

2010-08-05T09:14:00.002-04:00

Since I have a lot of free time, I'm working on two projects. The first one is a Hawaiian quilt for my sister-in-law, which I've been promising to make for her for several years now. I've always been intrigued by the Hawaiian quilt style and graphic quality, and she is from Hawaii, so it's my perfect excuse to make one. But since I don't have the room to make a full-sized quilt, I'm going to make 18 small appliqued pieces and sew them together into a large quilt. The first one is this one:

The second project I'm working on is curtains for the house. One by one, I will make them all. First, the bedroom. And because all I have to work with right now is off-white cotton thread, I'm crocheting a curtain. I estimate that it is going to take me a total of 96 hours to complete it--possibly more, because if I watch TV while I work on it, I go slower... radio is best!

Summer Days

2010-08-03T11:32:00.004-04:00

The summer continues on, and here I am. The internet hardly works at home, so I have been loathe to blog. Still, I want to remember these long and lazy days. Mostly I stay home and try to apply for jobs. Then when I get tired of writing cover letters and uploading my resume, I take pictures of my artwork and post it on etsy, in hopes of a sale. I've got to scrape together some money somehow! Sometimes I wonder why I ever went to New York in the first place, because now the only thing I have to show for it is a huge student loan. A master's degree yes, but for what? It isn't helping me find any jobs here. Then again... my experience has taught me that you can never know what is going to happen later down the road. I knew C for years before knowing I'd fall in love with him and get married. Maybe my master's degree will come into similar use ten years down the road from now. But the loan payments won't wait. Sigh...

That wasn't what I wanted to blog about. I wanted to talk about the cadence of my life, the day to day rhythm, which I love. I wake up in the morning and see C off to work. Then, like I said, I work on computer things until I grow weary. Then I turn myself to more satisfying tasks, such as washing clothes and hanging them up to dry on the backyard clothesline, where they sway in the summer breeze to the accompaniment of songbirds, a backdrop of pink zinnias, butterflies dodging and darting. Yesterday a huge praying mantis was perched on a dried flower stalk, blending perfectly with its brown and green surroundings. At first all I saw was dried sticks--then I saw a triangular head cocked in my direction, and long spiky legs. I inspect the squash plants for baby vegetables, but I can't stay outside for long because the mosquitoes are bad. Instead, I take a break and rest on the screened porch, where C has his desk, and I do a crossword puzzle while cicadas buzz in the trees around me. I listen to the neighborhood sounds, and eat frozen strawberry popsicles to keep cool. When C comes home from work, sometimes we go to the grocery store, sometimes we build a fire and roast corn on the cob, steaks, or skewers of fresh vegetables. The past couple of days have been very cool, a nice break from the summer heat. We've had the doors and windows open while we sit inside and play gin rummy together. And I'm starting new projects, like crocheted curtains, and a quilt.

Last night I had fabric out all over the bed and C was cleaning an old clock. Suddenly an owl hooted from the tree right outside the door, and I went to try and see it. Walking in the dark, my head got caught in a spiderweb, and as the light came on, I saw a big cat-eye spider bundling up its dinner. Outside on the ground was a huge cicada corpse, and a few fireflies twinkled in the underbrush as crickets and cicadas chorused loudly. Summer in the south is like that--it seems so quiet and so lazy sometimes, but it's so full of vibrant life.

Weekend Working Girl

2010-07-24T12:34:00.003-04:00

Today I'm working! It's just a one-day fill-in job, but still, I'm happy to be earning a bit of money. And it's fun because I'm at the art gallery where I used to work, literally a jewel box in the middle of Durham. Before I moved to New York and before the gallery moved to Durham, I used to work at the gallery in Chapel Hill. I worked there for 6 and a half years before making a life change and moving to NYC to get my master's degree. Then, of course, fate brought me back to NC, and here I am. This gallery is where I fell in love with C. We used to work together in the old days, at the old place. But this new gallery, so gorgeous, is where we met one cold December blue moon night and fell in love in front of a cozy fire, surrounded by gorgeous art, the place to ourselves. So of course, it holds special memories. This morning, when C dropped me off for work (my lunchbox all packed with treats from him), we sat in front of the fireplace and said a little prayer of thanks together, and were amazed again at the circumstances that brought us together.

The gallery is quiet today: construction outside and a 100-degree day are conspiring against us, but I've sold a few things so far. It's fun to talk to customers again, to model jewelry, to handle objects d'art. I'm happy to be inside on such a hot day, and immersed in beauty. Nevertheless, it will be nice to see C pull up at the end of the day and take me home. Working is all well and good, but... it's Saturday!

Patience

2010-07-22T10:16:00.004-04:00

Well, I have not been able to blog as much, because the Internet connexion at my house is very unreliable. I've been borrowing signal from the public school across the street, but it's very weak and sometimes on the weekends it doesn't work at all. Eventually C and I will get DSL, but probably not until I get a job. Things are insecure right now with his job, so we are trying not to spend any money that we don't have to spend.

So, eventually I want to start blogging more about the improvements we're making to our home, the interesting features of Durham, my art projects, my garden, etc. But right now... I'm just trying to be patient! And C is trying to be patient with me. He's not used to having someone come into his home and want to rearrange everything, even someone with impeccable taste. :)

Our Travels, Continued

2010-07-15T15:11:00.002-04:00

Sorry I have not been blogging more. I really have a lot to write about, but just haven't found the spare moments. Also, my internet connection at home is not the greatest...

Anyway, to pick up where I left off, C and I spent four days on Ocracoke Island, which was fantastic. I recommend it to anyone looking for an interesting and fun place to vacation. There are miles of beautiful beach, and just enough interesting shops and restaurants to keep one busy during the time not spent parasailing, boating, kayaking, fishing, birdwatching, or whatever sort of island thing you like to do. C and I spent our time looking at historical things (the British Cemetery, where four British casualties of WW1 are buried), going to art galleries (the decoy shop counts as one), swimming (in the ocean and in the swimming pool where we stayed) and going in the sauna (my first time in a sauna, and I didn't like it very much), eating seafood at the island restaurants, going to the surf shop, buying candy (salt water taffy--hello!), and hanging out at our rented house, where we liked to play cards on the deck overlooking the bay and watch the boats and birds and people.

"Let's live here!" said C, and I agreed. But when it came time to leave, we were kind of excited to get on the road and see some more places.

The first place we went was Belhaven, where there is a museum made of all the random objects that one woman collected during her lifetime. In a cluttered and dimly lit room over the town hall, a collection of dusty Victorian clothing, dolls, rocks, bones, Samoan fans, lightbulbs, Victrola records, buttons, furniture, things in jars (!!!), etc. is on display for free to anyone who can decipher the ancient hand-written scotch-taped-on labels. A donation of spare change helps maintain the collection, or at least pays for the lunch of the equally dusty old man keeping an eye on the place. My favorite things there were the whale skull, a random but super-cute teddy bear, the canned vegetables from the Victorian times, and a jar with a label that said "The foot of the last bear that Aunt May caught."

The other fun thing about Belhaven is that they were getting ready for their Independence Day celebration, which seems to be a big deal for them, and everyone was participating in the decoration contest, so every single house and business was entirely decked out in bunting. C and I decided we're going to put bunting on our house next July.

By the late afternoon we found ourselves in Bath, NC. Once a thriving and bustling port town, it is now just a sleepy farm village, with a few historic buildings to draw a few dozen tourists each year. As we drove through the dusky tree-lined streets, we found the one bed & breakfast place in town and secured lodging for the night. The place had bicycles for its guests, and we took full advantage of them, cruising down to the river, over to the historic church, and from one end of the town to the other. Bath has two restaurants, and we rode to one and looked at it, then to the other and looked at it, and then we picked the one that had outdoor seating so we could watch the sun set as we ate our meal. Then we rode around some more as darkness fell, and spotted things like a fake pirate illuminated in the upper story window of an old Victorian house. Both Ocracoke and Bath have historic ties to Blackbeard the Pirate, and play it up.

"Let's live here," said C. In the morning we rode around on bikes some more, and tried to decide which house we would buy, and there were several nice ones for sale, including the B&B where we stayed. We started thinking about how fun it would be to run a B&B, but decided that maybe it would be better to have one in a place a little less sleepy than Bath. We hardly saw any people the whole time we were there. But Bath does have a very interesting old house, the Palmer-Marsh house. Callie, our teenage tour-guide, gave us the history of the place, including the story of the young woman buried behind it, who apparently died of a broken heart when her sailor was lost at sea.

After seeing all the historic sights of Bath, C and I hit the road once again, shunning the freeways and keeping to the "blue highways," the small-town routes, which led us through fields of tobacco, soybeans, field corn, and peanuts, and whistle-stop towns with crumbling Victorian houses and abandoned train depots. We'd stop every now and then to take a picture of something funny or gorgeous, and then continue on our way.

By mid-day we crossed the Albemarle Sound and reached Edenton...

(To be continued, and pictures added soon!)

Church in Swan Quarter

2010-07-11T15:12:00.008-04:00

My love of churches is such that wherever I go they are the buildings that I am most aware of, and drawn to. I love to study the architecture, to look at the variations in structure that still keep the traditional church character. The arched windows, stained glass, pointed gables, etc. C loves churches and old buildings in general, too, and so we were perfectly happy to spend our honeymoon driving from town to little town, looking at old, often crumbling, buildings.

This is the first church we encountered, located in the tiny town of Swan Quarter, where we arrived on the first day of our honeymoon, with several hours to kill before we could catch the ferry over to Ocracoke Island. We busied ourselves "touring" the town, which consisted of this crumbling church, a couple of newer churches, an old and sketchy sort of restaurant, plenty of farmhouses, a decrepit dock full of old fishing boats, and a "wildlife viewing area." We ate lunch in the center of town, where someone had built a two-level gazebo, and then wandered about looking at all the interesting things like

this old car (extra credit to those who can name the make, model, and year!):

this pile of crab traps that looked like some sort of contemporary art sculpture:

these boats:

each other:Most of all we liked the old church, which was very mysterious with its gray paintless wood and equally abandoned looking semi trailer and boat parked alongside it. Bees nested in an upper story, gaining access through a broken windowpane. Key blanks were scattered around the front steps. The heavy summer heat of the South and the general lack of passersby added to the mystery of the place.

But soon it was time to catch the ferry, and soon C and I were off to our island getaway. After a 2 hour ride, which we thoroughly enjoyed--watching diving pelicans and passing sailboats--we arrived on the small island and easily found the place that would be our home for the next 4 days, a charming and spacious house right on the water of the island's bay, or Silver Lake as they call it. There we had a gorgeous view of the boats coming in and out, and all the water activities, which we could watch from a deck overlooking the harbor. Soon I was frying up pancakes and we were watching the sunset. A wonderful way to start the honeymoon!

The Wedding Reception

2010-07-07T09:26:00.003-04:00

After the wedding ended, C and I got in his car and started driving out to Hillsborough, to Joe's house, where our reception was being held. We couldn't believe we were finally married! Smiling, still in a daze, we recounted our feelings from the ceremony, sharing our favorite parts. We took some deep breaths and began to relax. The business was done--now all we had to do was go to a party!

Joe's house is like a romantic European villa at the top of a hill surrounded by rolling farmland. Full of art and oddities, it's like an extension of his art gallery, but with personal details. Comfortable and spacious, it was the ideal place for a wedding reception, where people could lounge inside, out on the extensive veranda, or down by the pool. We used Joe's ten-foot long dining room table for the food--sandwiches and salads from The Catering Company--with the cakes on small tables at either end.

Guests were already started to arrive when C and I got there, and we were soon mingling with them all, talking, laughing, just having an excellent time. It was so good to talk to friends I hadn't seen in a long time, as well as with C's family. Everyone seemed to have such a great time, and I enjoyed wandering around and observing the conviviality, all the while being the belle of the ball. Mostly, I was thankful to have such wonderful friends! They all pitched in and helped make sure everything ran like clockwork, while still managing to enjoy themselves.

The usual wedding rituals were followed: C and I danced our first dance, Moonlight Serenade. He is a fabulous dancer, by the way. Then my parents danced to Elvis' Can't Help Falling in Love With You, and we cut the cake, while the paparazzi snapped away. Later, outside on the lawn, I threw my bouquet to all the single ladies, and despite the 98-degree weather, C and I posed for romantic pictures with each other against the gorgeous backdrop of green fields and blue skies. It was only a two-hour reception, and the time just flew by. Before I knew it, the cd was on it's last song, "Thank You Friends" by Big Star, and people were leaving. But a few friends lingered, and we relaxed on the porch chairs, drinking Diet Cokes and feeling blissful. C and I danced a little more. I can't remember ever feeling so completely happy. It was just a glorious day.

Some of my favorite memories of the day are: my little sister K dancing with C's dad to a Glenn Miller song, seeing my mom and dad dancing, spotting my nieces and nephews smiling and pointing at me whenever they saw me, feeling so pretty in my wedding dress, the kind and loving toast that Joe gave us... and at the very end my friends serenading C and I as we walked out to the car to drive away. My three friends from New York, my mom, my sisters and brother all followed us out, singing and dancing with joy, and sent us off with a show-biz goodbye. I opened the sunroof on C's car and stuck myself out of it, waving goodbye to them, as we drove off toward the setting sun.

But first, because we were hot and happy and in love, C and I stopped at Maple View Dairy for some ice cream! Then, refreshed, happy, heart-full, and married, we drove home.

The Wedding

2010-07-06T10:39:00.002-04:00

I remember being nervous the morning of the wedding, but then going for a swim and then feeling calm and peaceful. Still, my hands shook as I dressed and put on makeup. E came to the church early with me to get ready, and as we prepared downstairs, my heart skipped a few beats thinking about C and what he might be doing or thinking about. I thought of my family, too, and wondered what each one was thinking as they all prepared to come see me be married. My sisters all came downstairs to see me in my wedding dress, and some friends also popped in for a few pictures and well wishes. When it was finally time to begin, I carefully made my way up the stairs and took my father's arm. Then, all eyes were on me as the organ played a fanfare and we began to walk down the aisle toward my waiting husband-to-be. He had the most wonderful smile, and that look of gratitude and amazement that he gets sometimes which makes my heart turn flips. I remember everyone in the pews watching me and smiling, and I returned their smiles with a huge one of my own. I felt beautiful, special, and thankful to have so many kind people there to see me.

All the details were perfect. The flowers in the church were white, and everyone wore corsages of white roses. My bouquet was similar, but with pink peonies and pale pink roses from the garden. My veil stayed in place, and my knees didn't buckle--I was actually able to stand and sing with gusto all the hymns that C and I chose. The ceremony opened with C's favorite hymn, How Great Thou Art, which moved us both. Then a friend read the poem, "How Like an Arch This Marriage" by John Ciardi, which describes how the two sides of an arch lean inward and upward to greater strength. Two ladies then sang "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing" like angels. Next, my dad spoke the sweetest words of praise, admiration, and fatherly counsel, and I felt amazed to have such wonderful parents. "On This Day of Joy and Gladness" was the next hymn, and then it was the moment for Chris and I to step forward. The bishop's words were doctrinal, wise, full of promise and hope for our eternal future. C and I shared long looks, full of meaning and emotion, but our words were both strong and clear as we said, "I do," and as we exchanged rings, promising to one another a pledge of faithfulness and abiding love. My hands were sweaty and my ring stuck, so there was a slightly awkward moment as C wriggled the ring slowly onto my finger, but other than that there was nothing to mar the incomparable moments of being officially knitted together as husband and wife.

The service ended with "Now Thank We All Our God" and my own heart swelled with thankfulness and joy. As C and I made our way down the aisle together, my smile was even larger than it had been before, and C also could not help beaming. We stood in the back of the church as our guests filed out and we greeted each one with more smiles and thanks. There I was reunited with my roommates from New York, friends from near and far, and more joyful greetings from family members. Never have I felt so happy, so entirely at peace with the world, so heart-full. Like a beautiful dream, or heaven, I was surrounded by all my friends and family, partnered beside the best and most wonderful man I have ever known. But it wasn't a dream, and as the reality sunk in, if it is even possible, I just became happier and happier.

My Wedding

2010-07-06T10:17:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I would get so excited talking about the wedding plans that I would forget that the whole world didn't revolve around me. I mean, I wasn't a bridezilla (I don't think), but sometimes I would be talking to C and I'd say something like, "oh, this is a card from so-and-so. They can't make it to my wedding, but they send their love" or "guess what? we're going to have little bottles of martinelli's at my wedding!" C would then gently remind me that it was his wedding too. And what a wedding it was. I'll tell you about it soon.

I apologize for being so absent from the blog world this week, but I've been on my honeymoon, a.k.a. the best week of my life. There is no way I can possibly recap everything all in this one post, so I'm going to take it day by day and catch up with posts about each day, beginning with the wedding day.

Somebody's Getting Married

2010-06-26T08:39:00.002-04:00

I awoke at dawn, nervous as a bride... wait a second! But what do you do at 6 a.m. on your wedding day, when most everything is done and you don't have to be anywhere until 11? I went for a swim. The sky was turning from grey to blue, birds and bees hummed and flirted amongst the blackberries and rose bushes, and the dog woke up and came to sit by the pool and watch me as I floated leisurely in the summer-warmed water. Gradually my eyes began to open a little more, and the first rays of sun glinted off the ring on my finger. Tomorrow I'll have a husband, I'll be a wife. Today I'm a bride. I realized I was smiling, my shoulders were relaxing.

Now I'm thinking of the bouquet of roses and peonies in the refrigerator next to the milk and eggs. I'm thinking of a man across town waking up and putting on a suit and tie. I'm thinking of all the dear friends I'll see this afternoon, who have come from near and far to wish me well. I'm awake, alive, and happy.

Sunday Message

2010-06-20T15:18:00.003-04:00

Today in church the lesson was on Christ's atonement, so much of the lesson focused on repentance and grace. As we discussed these themes, I remembered these posters I'd seen in Harlem. Put up by a local businessman, no doubt, as a way to try and change the drug-riddled and gang-ridden poor community, yet I wonder if anyone heeds them and decides to repent, or if anyone passing by truly understands their meaning. As I see people around me going through hard times caused by sins and mistakes, some the same mistakes I made myself at one point in my life, I find myself wishing I could just lift those people up out of their problems and cause them to see once and for all the way to happiness and peace. I have all but walked around with a huge poster that says "Repent!" I've tried to be a listening ear, a good example, a giver of advice, a comfort dispenser (to quote Mrs. Norman Vincent Peale) and a sister. With all my heart I long for them to understand, and sometimes in my dark moments I fantasize about kidnapping them and forcibly shielding them from the influences of the world. But just telling them or wanting it for them is not enough, and there is only so much I can do. They have to choose and do it for themselves, just as I learned from my mistakes and chose a better way. Then, by the healing and empowering grace of Christ's atonement, their desire and efforts can be strengthened and they can change, learn, grow, improve, and be sanctified.

Weathering the Storm

2010-06-18T11:39:00.004-04:00

Deep inside the brambly marriage of a rosebush and a climbing trumpet vine in the backyard is a nest, where a tiny new-hatched cardinal baby waits next to an unhatched speckled egg, it's mouth wide open and ready for its mother and father to deposit food. When the parent birds come, the baby makes no sounds, but the proud cardinal parents chirp and sing and squeak as they patrol the backyard, hunt for bugs, and care for their baby. Since it hatched, there have been two huge lighting storms, with torrential rains, and I often think about the baby bird and wonder if it's able to curl up into a tight ball and withstand the rain, or if it's mother is standing over it, protecting it from the tempest. Meanwhile, there have been four human babies running around the yard, squealing and squalling, laughing and jumping, swimming and sunning, having a grand adventure during the week they've been here at their grandparents' house. My sister and her brood have come to roost with us here for a week and a half while they transition from Idaho to Raleigh. They're moving back East, to be close to the family, to start fresh, to try new opportunities. And I've been so glad to spend time with my two nieces and two nephews. There has been no time to blog, of course. Anyone who spends all day playing with four kids, or has planned a wedding must know that.

I'm grateful to my mom who insisted that I get my own bedroom in the house even though everyone else has to share and squish and sleep on floors. There are some perqs to being the bride-to-be, apparently. So I have had a place to escape to when the family drama gets too hot, or the kids too demanding, or I just want to talk on the phone to C in a quiet place. In fact, the past few days I have felt like I am in the eye of a turbulent storm. People all around me clash and have differences and not everyone in my family gets along with each other, and there have been (minor) setbacks with wedding plans and things like that, but at the center of it all I am still just floating along in my bubble, able to brush aside things that might have once felled me, but which now seem so insignificant in comparison to the joy and love I feel toward my fiance, and the excitement of being married to him. If the entire world fell apart and my whole entire wedding went haywire, as long as we could be together none of the chaos would matter to me. It sounds so cheesy to write it out like that, but it's true.

Yesterday was a hard day. I can't really talk about it because it involves deeply personal issues within my family. Suffice it to say that it was a long and exhausting day both emotionally and mentally, but at the end of it was the dinner where my parents were going to meet C's parents for the first time. I knew that C would be waiting for me at the restaurant, and that when he embraced me, the world's cares would slough away, and all would we well with the world. He was, and they did, and it is. The world is inherently riddled with day to day problems as well as huge catastrophes every once in a while, but when I close my eyes and lean my head on C's strong shoulder and he whispers "Everything is going to be all right," then I can't help but believe him.

Metropolitan

2010-06-13T08:41:00.000-04:00

A gem of a church in East Harlem!

Three Good Things About the A-Team Movie

2010-06-11T18:16:00.003-04:00

The good news about the A-Team movie is that I now have the theme song stuck in my head. That's a good thing because for the past month I've had "It's A Jolly Holiday" from Mary Poppins stuck in my head and that was driving me absolutely crazy. The other good news about the A-Team movie is that I actually liked it. I mean, it's not a great movie, but it was very entertaining. I used to love watching the old TV show with my brother and as we drove to the theater to see the movie today, opening day, we wondered if this new iteration would let us down. It didn't. And the other good thing about it was the inclusion of Jon Hamm! I have missed Mad Men so much, and am trying to survive the last few weeks before it starts up again so to see Hamm, aka Don Draper, was a treat.

Delinquency

2010-06-08T08:06:00.002-04:00

I've been delinquent from my blog because there are so many other fun things to do besides sit inside the house and write. And yet, I want to remember these wonderful days and capture them somehow before they slip away. So what have I been so busy doing?

Well, first of all, my mom needed to paint my sister's bedroom, and it was a mammoth chore. I won't say she's a hoarder, but my sister has a LOT of stuff, and we had to organize it all as we painted each wall of her enormous room, with odd walls. I even had to crawl up into a little niche by the ceiling and paint in there while lying on my back like Michelangelo, which is the only comparison I'll make to him because I had a very hard time just covering the wall with two coats of "toasted scone" let alone painting elaborate frescoes with an array of hand-mixed paints.

Then, C said he was going to come over one day after work, and two hours later he showed up with a badminton set! We set it up in the front yard and have been playing it ever since. Well, we played until the birdies all fell apart. They just don't make 'em like they used to. But as soon as we get some more shuttlecocks, we'll be back at it. Meanwhile, my arms need a rest from all the painting and swatting. He also brought over a volleyball, which made me scowl. It just figures that I'm marrying someone who's favorite sport is my absolute least favorite one. I hate volleyball, but he used to play on a volleyball team that traveled around competing. He's determined to make me like it, and I'm equally determined not to. Well, maybe not so much determined as just completely doubtful.

After our round of badminton last night we jumped in the swimming pool, which is where I've been spending a lot of time, too. It's just so wonderful to be floating around in cool water on a hot summer day. There's no where else I'd rather be. And I'm actually getting a little tan, too. There's a lot to see in the backyard while swimming and sunning. The black raspberry bushes are full of delicious ripe berries, the blackberries will be next, and there is a cardinal's nest in a rosebush, with two speckled eggs in it. At night the fireflies come out and compete with the stars, and an owl can be heard in the woods just beyond the backyard fence.

As a reward for getting the room painted, my mom drove E and I to the beach on Saturday. It takes just over 2 hours from our house, but it's completely worth the trip. Just as you arrive in Wilmington, there is the Krispy Kreme donut factory with hot fresh donuts coming down the conveyer belt and under a waterfall of icing, straight into my mouth. Er, um, what I mean is it's a tradition to stop there and get a donut on the way to the beach. The beach was sunny, hot, and sticky. We had a hard time keeping our beach umbrella in the sand with all the wind, but finally E buried it deep enough that it stayed put and we were free to run around and frolic in the surf. The water felt amazing, though the waves dunked me a few times. We watched surfers, kids, diving birds, and all sorts of people, as we sunned, swam, snacked, and snoozed. Then, when the sun got low in the sky and we ran out of quarters for the parking meter, we headed home.

Back at home, I started making a quilt for my new nephew, who was just born a few months ago. He'll be here tomorrow with my sister and her family, who are coming for a visit, so I'm going to try and finish the little quilt today. I've also got wedding tablecloths to sew, and a few other wedding thing to work on. It's all coming along, but getting me a little stressed, just because I don't want to forget anything, and I want it all to be fun and interesting for my guests, and have it be beautiful too. Weddings are hard work! Luckily I'll never have to do it again. Now, I should probably get busy...

Church of the Meek

2010-06-06T09:12:00.002-04:00

I really thought I'd already posted this Harlem church on my blog, because I used to pass it so often, but I've searched back and don't see it. So here it is, the Church of the Week, the Church of the Meek, on a stormy day in Harlem. Sometimes I miss those old neighborhoods a lot.

Sleepiness

2010-06-01T00:10:00.003-04:00

E took the screen off the big dormer window in the upstairs room of the house this afternoon and scared out a spider that landed on my mom, who was down on the floor looking at paint samples, deciding what the new color of the walls should be. Just as she began favoring Burnt Mocha over Rustic Nutberry, E started screaming and pointing and my mom jumped across the room. It was the fastest either one of them moved all day, so fast I didn't even get a glimpse of the spider before it died on the pine-green carpet, which I think looks best with Almond Taupe.

Anyway, today was one of those days when there seemed to be a spell cast over the house. As my dreams gave way to the birdsong outside my window, I wanted to wake up but my eyes never seemed to quite open all the way. After breakfast I crawled upstairs and got back into bed. Later, E and I went to the mall to look at dresses (for her) and swimsuits (for me) and for once I walked at her pace instead of mine (always a league ahead and urging her to hurry up.) No, today we both dragged our feet around the Streets at Southpoint, which was a good idea because otherwise I would have stayed in bed all day probably, doing nothing much. After the second store I made a beeline to the food court and ordered a big Diet Coke, which I think helped. At least, by the time we made it to Urban Outfitters, my eyes were open enough to see that all clothing made for young people these days is for hoochies.

I did find a swimsuit, but E didn't find a dress. We both found sunglasses, and I don't care if aviators are out of style, they look good on me. But I'm not used to wearing sunglasses and I forgot to put them on later as I lay by the pool, soaking up the last few rays of the sun before it slipped behind a big ol' rain-cloud. Kiana came over and sniffed at me and then walked away. I felt glued to the warm concrete, and closed my eyes, bidding sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. Later I found Kiana in the corner of the yard, standing with her silvery back hunched like she does these old days, under the branches of the black raspberry bushes. The berries are ripe when they come right off the stem with ease, and I enjoyed a few. Guess the birds haven't discovered them yet, so don't breathe a word. I gave Kiana one, and she ate it, but she's a good dog and didn't eat any berries off the vine. No, she ran over to the fence where the cats were watching us, and started barking at them. Why do dogs love to bother cats?

The cats just wanted food, and after that it must have been my supper time too, because mom had T-bones and baked potatoes dished out for us all. It was a holiday, after all. Full-bellied and still sleepy, I retired to the front porch where I rocked on the swing and talked on the phone to my sweetheart while twilight came up the driveway and fireflies lit up the grass. Maybe tomorrow I'll be more awake, but being sleepy all day today wasn't so bad, I guess.

Church Day

2010-05-30T08:44:00.002-04:00

Happy Sunday! Happy church day. The Harlem churches will continue for 4 more weeks until I'm married and living in Durham, at which point I will commence with sharing pics of Durham churches. In some ways, Durham is just like Harlem, with most of its churches in its poorest and humblest neighborhoods. Some are houses turned into churches. Some have barred windows. Some are massive. I'm looking forward to living in Durham, learning about my new neighborhood, and sharing it with you.

The Old Piano Roll Blues

2010-05-26T20:24:00.005-04:00

Even if I weren't planning a wedding, I would still have weddings on my mind: my brother has been constantly playing Pachelbel's Canon on the piano for the past two weeks to the point where I feel like I'm on the set of "A Wedding Story." The kicker? My brother doesn't even know how to play the piano. My parents have owned a player piano since I was in high school, but in those days playing it was more of a workout than an enjoyable entertainment. Because the bellows were completely worn out, you had to pedal the thing like you were coming down the home stretch of the Tour de France in order to get enough air to make the music play. Eventually we just stopped playing it because we didn't want to make it worse. But I'm happy to report that finally, after all these years, the player piano has been restored to its original glory. This year my dad was able to find a man who replaced all the broken parts, fixed every little thing, and polished the piano up and down, inside and out. Then he ordered a bunch of new piano rolls from QRS, which has been making popular songs into player piano rolls since the 1920s, apparently. Now we have a growing library of piano roll songs from classical (Pachelbel, Chopin, Strauss) to show-tunes (Phantom of the Opera, The Sound of Music, Fiddler on the Roof) to older and more authentic favorites from the golden age of the player piano, such as "Nola," "I'm Looking Over a Four Leaf Clover" and "Come Back to Sorrento." Then there are random Polish polkas and stuff like "Dixie." Some of the rolls are very old and fragile, and can hardly play at all. Some, despite their age, seem just as good as new. All of them are fun. In fact, now that supper is over, the sun has gone down, and the day's chores are done, it might be a good idea to play "Yellow Bird" or "Hawaiian Love Song" as the family gathers round the piano to sing along.

Sunday, Rain Day, Church

2010-05-23T22:01:00.003-04:00

One minute the sun is shining through a blue sky; the next minute big fat raindrops are falling down through black clouds. Spring is like that. I found this Harlem church on a similar day in New York. When I left my house the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. A half hour later the sky was blackening and soon after I passed this church it started to rain heavily. But like a good New Yorker, I had my umbrella tucked in my bag. Not that that was any help to my shoes. And now that I'm not a New Yorker any longer, I don't carry an umbrella around, and I still never wear sensible shoes. But here there is usually a car to hop into or a house to run inside, and the only thing suffering from the rain is my hair which has been hopelessly curly and fuzzy all weekend.

Brought To You By the Letter C

2010-05-20T09:00:00.003-04:00

Yesterday I got the sweetest email from C saying, "let's go get our marriage license!" So he played hooky from work for a few hours and we drove out to the county seat. First we went to the courthouse where we were directed instead to the clerk's office by a very congratulatory old southern man. At the clerk's office we had to fill out a form, pay $60 in cash, and swear on a Bible that we were telling the truth. Then, amongst the huge books chronicling all the births, deaths, and marriages in the county for all of recorded history, C and I were given license to marry. It was just another step in the process that is drawing us closer together, entwining our lives, and in five weeks we'll be married!

The clerk's office was conveniently located above Whole Foods, so E suggested we pop in and grab a few lil bottles of Martinelli's apple cider and drink a toast to the occasion. The nearest park we could find was more of a cemetery, but that was fine with us, and E snapped a few pictures of me and C as we drank a bubbly toast and acted all cute amongst the clover-covered gravestones.

Later that afternoon I rode over to the feed store with my mom to pick up her new chicks. Peeping, scratching and pecking, they are so adorable and fluffy. My picture doesn't really do them justice, but they wouldn't sit still for the camera.

I also picked up a few bags of compost, and in the evening I drove over to C's house where we planted beans, tomatoes, and zinnias. The evening was cool and clear and it felt so satisfying to get my hands covered in rich dark earth and plan a vegetable-filled future with my man. After the crops were all in, we rewarded ourselves with dinner at a Chinese restaurant and, as we ate, the clouds came up and a short rain watered our garden, then stopped in time for me to drive home safely under a crescent moon. Lovely.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

2010-05-17T17:54:00.004-04:00

Strange how hard it rains now. Rows and rows of endless clouds, but I'm holding on underneath this shroud, praying. That Patty Griffin song is in my head, it's been raining so hard all day long. So much rain, the pool is full to the very top and is overflowing. The garden won't need to be watered for a week or more, and maybe my mom's spindly plants will finally start to grow. It's the kind of dark rainy day that makes you not want to do anything at all except curl up with a bowl of popcorn and a book. I feel like watching To Kill A Mockingbird or The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. My mom has been baking bread and cookies all day and complaining about how fast the world has been turning on its axle (smile!), and my dad stayed home from work to work on the basement electrical wires. He's putting in a home theater down there. Too bad its not done already, cause it would be a nice place to escape from this dark wet dismal day. Sigh...

These Days

2010-05-16T23:07:00.002-04:00

These days are full of good things. I'm so enjoying this time before marriage of preparation, learning, spending time with my family and with C. The weather is hot sometimes and I swim in the pool, and when it rains I sit on the front porch swing with my sisters and squeal at the lightning. After work C will pick me up and we'll go out, or I'll drive over to his house and we'll roast hot dogs and marshmallows in the backyard. The other day I was there and heard the jingle of an ice cream truck in the distance. Running to the curb, I willed the truck to come to me, and a few seconds later it rounded the corner and saw me waving. There's nothing like an ice cream sandwich on a 92 degree day, handed to you fresh from the freezer in the back of an old ice cream truck. C just laughed and watched me enjoying my childish treat. We never seem to run out of things to talk and laugh about, and if it's even possible, I think I'm falling more in love each day.

But times aren't all good. C is worried about his job, I need a job, and all the time I've spent outside in this Southern jungle have resulted in 19 mosquito bites that each itch like the dickens. Bugs just love me. Sigh... and there are other things on my mind too that have me worried, but I'm working hard to make things better, and it's hard to stay down when there are so many wonderful things happening around me.

My wedding invitations are sent, the dress project is progressing wonderfully, I bought a wedding veil, the ceremony and reception plans are coming along smoothly, and I'm absolutely surrounded by love. The world is beautiful, and I love life.

I guess I was going to write about today, but I don't even know what to say. Just that I love my man and how he comes to pick me up and take me to church. We walk into church hand in hand, we sing hymns together, go to Sunday School together, then separate, then come back together, look in each others eyes and get lost, and then we get congratulated by somebody, and then the Bishop sits us down and gives us sage advice, tells us that communication is the key to a good marriage, and we look at each other and realize that the thing we do best with each other is communicate, and we smile. We're going to have a great marriage! And then we drive home and have lunch and then we drive around the beautiful countryside and then sit and talk and laugh and drive some more, the car getting slower and slower the closer we get to my house. When we reluctantly say goodbye we kiss and smile, and then when he's about halfway down the driveway I can't wait to see C again. It sounds silly, and I can't even describe it, but it's just wonderful. That's my idea of a gorgeous day, and a sweet life.

Church

2010-05-16T22:52:00.003-04:00

Church of the day! It's a Harlem one, although eventually I will segue into Durham churches. I had the best day today! I'll write about it in a minute...

Apothecary

2010-05-13T13:05:00.004-04:00

My mom showed me how to pick the barely-opened peony blossoms, dip the stems in candle-wax, put the flowers in ziploc bags, and refrigerate them. This way, up to several months later we can take them out of the fridge, cut the waxy tip off the stem, put them in water, and the flowers will open up as if they were newly picked from the garden. It's a trick I'm taking full advantage of, because if I could change anything, I would have gotten married right now, during the peak peony season. They are just such lush, beautiful flowers, and this way I can at least have a few to mix in with my other flowers at the wedding festivities next month.

Meanwhile, my mom is making lemon-thyme cookies while her sourdough starter bubbles happily on the kitchen counter, she's also got a vat of wool on the stove being dyed, my sister K is trying to figure out how to grind her own minerals and make face powder, and the warm weather is making the garden outside surge and the frogs, spiders, and lizards that abound in North Carolina to find their way indoors. Yesterday I had to chase a large brown lizard out the door with a broom. So, it feels a little less like a wedding party around here and more like a witch's coven what with all the candles, herbs, wildlife, and concoctions. Now I just need to come up with a magical spell that will make the time speed up, because I can't wait to get married!

What's In A Name?

2010-05-11T17:35:00.007-04:00

The votes are in, the poll is closed, and all thirteen of you (including me!) have had your say about changing the name of my blog. As you know, it has been called "New York Minutes" because I was living in New York until just a few weeks ago. I started the blog when I went to the city in an attempt to capture the adventures I was having and share them with my friends and family. The name was a pun on keeping a log (minutes) and the fast-pace lifestyle of the big city. But now that I'm back in North Carolina, with no plans to return to NYC any time soon, and since I want to keep my blog, and since it's too much of a hassle to start a new one (and lose my 10 followers, half of you whom I don't even know?), I decided to just change the title name. The URL stays the same, and I'm still the same person I've always been, just closer to getting married and with slightly less interesting stories now that I don't have all of New York City to cull from.

But what sort of new name do I choose? Here are some ideas I had:

An anagram of "New York Minutes" was one idea that I had, so I went to the anagram server to see what it would come up with. But unfortunately names such as "Sky Mutineer Now," "Entwine So Murky," and (gasp) "Smoky Wiener Nut" are not names that I feel are appropriate to the spirit of this blog.

Next I turned to the name of the city in which I will be living, but Durham has little to offer in the way of blog-name inspiration, and my mom was horrified at my idea of calling it "The Durham Bull." Durham is also known as Tobacco City, the City of Medicine, and is a baseball town, but none of those things are particularly relevant to my life.

So then I started reading some poems that I like, and one by Sara Teasdale stuck out: Stars over snow, and in the west a planet. Look for a lovely thing and you will find it. It is not far, it never will be far. I really love that poem, and the idea that there are lovely things all around us just waiting to be found, so I though of calling my blog "A Lovely Thing." Other names inspired by poems I considered are "A Tiny Song" from Walter de la Mare's "The Warbler," because my blog is a little bit like the tiny song a bird sings to itself and its friends. Or, "Daring All Things" from an Edward Carpenter poem, but although that poem starts out really good, it is mostly about naked men and, while there is nothing necessarily wrong with that, I didn't really feel like aligning myself with it specifically.

But I also thought about just calling the blog "Holiday" because it relates to my name and the song that my mom named me after (the Beegees' "You're a Holiday"), and then that reminded me of a song by the Spongetones that C played for me the other night, as we danced together under the stars: "Every night is a holiday when I'm spending my time with you. Every night is a holiday..." So, if his nights are holidays and I am a holiday, and the blog is about my days, then "Holiday, Every Day" seems like a good thing to call it. We'll try it out for a while and see if it sticks.

Mother

2010-05-09T20:52:00.002-04:00

Well, I still have a few Harlem churches tucked up my sleeve, even though I'm trying to accept the fact that I'm not a New Yorker anymore. I still keep referring to "my roommates" even though I don't live with A and J anymore, for example. Now my family are my roommates, and they are all completely crazy, but I am enjoying living with them anyway in these weeks before my marriage. In fact, I love spending time with my mother. She loves to work in her garden, and she keeps chickens, and she also loves to do things with her hands, like hook rugs and knit sweaters. Everything I can do started with her teaching me how, or encouraging me to learn. She has always been the perfect example of a righteous woman, showing by example how to live a happy life full of richness. All the wonderful things that can be said about mothers can be said of her, and then even more. I love my mom, and am so grateful for her!

Bugs

2010-05-07T08:27:00.002-04:00

The last few months I was in New York, I was keeping a horrible secret! If I told anyone, it could have meant social ostracization. People would have looked at me with a mixture of disgust and pity, and they would not wanted to come near my roommates or me, or even enter our house. What was this horrible secret, you ask? In New York it can only be one thing: bedbugs.

Back in March I got a couple of really nasty bug bites. I thought maybe there were fleas in the rug, so I took steps to kill them, but the bites persisted, and every few days I'd get a few new ones. However, my roommates were unaffected. When the flea poison didn't seem to do anything, I began to get scared. Bedbugs are a serious problem in New York. Posters on the subway cars and buses alert people to the rising population of the pests, which are extremely difficult to kill. I feared the worst. But I searched my bed and my room for signs of the nasty little creatures to no avail. I looked for the clues that websites said to look for, and came up with nothing. Even still, I began carrying a spray bottle of alcohol around and dousing all of my belongings with it. Almost every day I'd change my sheets and take my blankets to the laundromat. I washed every article of clothing I own. I sealed my mattress in a plastic cover. Still no sight of bedbugs, but still a few bites every so often. But I wondered if I was imagining it. Maybe the itching welts were caused by something else? Finally, in desperation, I wrapped my entire bed frame in packing tape, sealing every crack and crevice, so that if there were bedbugs hiding in the paper-thin cracks, they could not come out and bite me. I began sleeping with my light on to discourage them. Once a haven, my bed was now a war zone.

Finally one night after working on my computer late at night, I decided to go to bed. I went to pull back the covers on my bed, and underneath the blankets, there was a bedbug! Small and flat and disgusting looking, it was walking slowly along, probably looking for me. I immediately killed it with alcohol, put it in a ziploc bag, and threw it away. Then I searched my bed, every fold of the sheets, for more bugs, but didn't find anything. It was very hard to sleep that night, but I didn't get any more bites. I continued to change my sheets and wash my blankets and be on the alert, but I didn't find any more bugs after that one, and didn't get bit again the rest of the time I was in New York.

After all the public service announcements I've heard, all the websites, and all the horror stories, it's surprising to think that there was just one bedbug, but maybe I killed the others in my efforts, or maybe the one was just a random hop-on. Sometimes you're forced to stand or sit very close to other people on the buses and subways, and it's easy for the little bugs to crawl from one person to another. So, I don't think my apartment was infested, and there is no reason for anyone to be afraid to come over and visit my roommates. In fact, I think I was pretty lucky to live in New York for almost three years and not have a problem with bedbugs before this. That said, its definitely something I never want to have to deal with ever again! Now that I'm in North Carolina, where it's hot and humid and the perfect environment for insects, I've been getting lots of mosquito bites, but they are nothing compared to those bedbug bites. In fact, I feel silly complaining... but I still do. Why do bugs like to bite me so much?!

The Lazy South

2010-05-06T10:27:00.002-04:00

New York is known for its hustle and bustle. Wherever you go in the city, there are lots of people going this way and that, taking care of business, getting things done, working it. Part of the reason is, most people just can't afford to be lazy in New York. The competition is fierce there, and if you don't step it up, you lose out. When I first moved to New York, I thought I would be overwhelmed by the pace of life, the hordes of people, the thick traffic, the abundance of things to do and see. With so much going on at once, how could one possibly do it all? But I wasn't overwhelmed, I just reveled in the knowledge that with so much out there, I would never be bored or at a loss of what to do. I picked and chose my activities, and packed my days full of work, play, and adventure.

Now here in the South, there is a lot for me to do: wedding stuff. I've got things to sew and bake, things to search for and buy, people to talk to, programs to organize, events to coordinate. There should not be a dull or lazy moment. And yet... in my parents' house, which is comfortable and large and full of food, I feel compelled to laze around in my pajamas and do little more than read a book or play minesweeper on the computer. I don't know what has come over me! If I go outside, the hot sun and languorous garden and trees all around me make me feel like doing nothing more than sitting on the porch swing and eating strawberries and watching and listening to fat bumblebees roll around in gorgeous peony blossoms, and fluffy roses droop like a quilt over the backyard fence. If I go in the backyard, I can't help but lay down by the pool and take a nap, an old and tired dog by my side. Wherever I go--the post office, the grocery store, the bank--I feel like everything is going slow and lazily along. So, I've accomplished nothing, but am having a delightful time not doing it. However, maybe today I will make a list of things to do, and get busy. Or maybe I will just get a bowl of ice cream and eat it in the garden by the pea patch, and watch the chickens hunt for grubs. At least someone is busy.

Last New York Weekend

2010-05-04T09:22:00.005-04:00

This past weekend my dad and mom drove up to New York in their big old Chevy Suburban to load up my belongings and drive me back to North Carolina. I was so worried that all my things wouldn't fit in the back of the car, so I was giving stuff away right and left, but in the end it all fit perfectly, with room to spare, and we drove back home with no problems at all.

But before that long drive, my parents spent a few days with me enjoying the city. On Friday we walked down the street to Grant's Tomb, a national monument right by my apartment that I'd somehow never been to see. It was gorgeous, and so interesting. Nestled in a grove of plane trees atop a little hill, the domed structure was hung with patriotic bunting and houses exhibits on the life of Ulysses S. Grant, our Civil War hero and President. Grant is indeed entombed there, along with his amazing wife Julia Dent.

Nearby is Riverside Church, where charismatics such as Norman Vincent Peale once preached. Peale enjoyed a friendship with the LDS prophet David O. McKay, and several paintings by artist Heinrich Hoffmann that are owned by Riverside Church are often used in books and magazines by the LDS church, a legacy of that friendship. We wanted to see the paintings, but the church was full of highschool students from all over the country who had convened for a choir and band festival, and the room with the paintings was being used temporarily as storage. So instead we sat and enjoyed the music of a high-school band from North Carolina (which, despite being bassoonless, was pretty good) and wandered through the cathedral with its gorgeous soaring stained glass windows on the inside, and incredible ironwork and stone carvings on the outside.

Hopping on the subway, we headed downtown for a Shake Shack lunch, which we ate outside the American Museum of Natural History. While eating there, a Japanese tourist/stranger walked up to me and said, "Hi, it's me. Is there shake nearby?"

Then, it was back up-up-uptown, and a visit to the Cloisters, that branch of the Metropolitan Museum of Art devoted to medieval art. Sadly, despite my Met membership, I had never been there, and did not want to leave the city without visiting. And I loved it! Now I'm sad I didn't go more often, because it is so amazing and beautiful and full of the most wonderful things. The famous Unicorn tapestries are there, countless gargoyles, carved wood figures by Tilman Riemenschneider, ancient jewelry, famous altarpiece paintings, and much much more. There are also gardens, fountains, and a terrace overlooking the Hudson River, which was looking more beautiful that day than I've ever seen it: blue and gold above trees bursting into their summer greens. I felt transported to an Italy of yesteryear.

On the way home we wended through the gardens of Fort Tryon Park, and came across a pair of woodchucks, happily chewing on the underbrush near their massive ground-burrow. Home again, we got barbecue from Dinosaur, and finished the day happily sated and tired.

I'm Back!

2010-05-03T10:08:00.002-04:00

Sorry about the long absence of posting... but I've had so much going on! I enjoyed my last week in New York, then moved back to North Carolina. Now I'm here, and it seems very strange that I won't be going back to my Harlem apartment with its Hudson River view, or spending time with my awesome roommates, or jumping on the subway and exploring the wonderful city. Did I have enough time to do everything I wanted to do? Of course not. But there is never enough time. I'll go back and visit the city again someday, and it will always hold such an incredibly fond place in my heart. But now New York's not my home.

However, I do need to write about some of the things I did in New York before I left. I also want to talk about my plans here in NC, and blog about all sorts of other stuff, but first things first. I'm still unpacking, and I've got a huge to-do list, and... trying not to turn into a frazzled bridezilla while I count down the days to the wedding (less than 2 months away!!!) and try to make it all come together. So, stay tuned. I'll definitely be blogging more often now that I'm here. But the question is, now that I'm not in New York any longer, should I change the name of my blog? Please vote in the sidebar poll, and tell me what you think. Thanks for reading!

Art at the MoMA

2010-04-26T14:53:00.010-04:00

Friday was the most beautiful wonderful New York day! I made it a holiday of sorts, and devoted myself to the pursuit of pleasure. In my case, that means sunning in Central Park with a book and a crochet project. After a few hours of laying blissfully in the spring grass (it's kind of ironic to think that I've got to get my fill of laying in the grass while I can, here in New York City, because in North Carolina you can't lay in the grass unless you want to be eaten alive by ticks, fire ants, spiders and other scary monsters), eating a strawberry FrozFruit (my favorite Central Park food-vendor treat!) I meandered down to Whole Foods and ate a healthy lunch. Then I visited the Museum of Arts and Design in its new location at Columbus Circle. It's a wonderful small museum, with a wonderful collection of American jewelry, glass, and sculpture. Two of the floors were being installed with a new exhibit while I was there, so I was able to view the artists constructing their pieces on location, which was fascinating, as well as beneficial, because they gave me a free ticket for future admission since the exhibits weren't completed yet. I'll have to go back and see the completed exhibition, which looked very interesting. It focuses on art made from dead things (bones, fur, insects, seeds, wood) which might sound disgusting, but can be quite interesting. However, I have taken a stand against the use of insects and feathers in art, which I will no doubt blog about in the future.

After that, I went to the Museum of Modern Art, to visit for the last time in a long time, my favorite paintings there. While I was there, I decided to make a list of my favorite pieces in the MoMA. Of course, not all the paintings that the museum owns are on display, so there are probably other pieces they have that would be on this list, but as of now, these are my top five favorites at the MoMA:

Christina's World by Andrew Wyeth. I don't understand why this painting is relegated to a hallway next to the escalator. Well, I do know why, but it makes me mad. These days Andrew Wyeth is looked at as passe, little more than an illustrator who just painted in an almost photo-realistic style the same old bleak scenes around his country neighborhood, with nothing groundbreaking or controversial (to today's eyes) about them. The stark emotionalism, pathos, and subtle genius of this exquisite painting is lost on the hordes of teenagers and tourists that mill through the museum snapping their bubblegum and striking disco poses in front of more ridiculous works of art. The people pass right on by and don't realize they are missing out on one of this nation's artistic masterpieces.

Stuart Davis. I love anything by Stuart Davis. Currently on view is his Egg Beater V, a still life from his series that focused on egg beaters. Yes, the common egg beater is a strange and curious thing to do a series of paintings on, but Davis loved to paint things with rounded and interconnecting shapes and, as an object, what could be more interesting and than an egg beater? Davis imbued his paintings with a sense of humor and whimsy that isn't saccharine at all, but somehow straightforward and easy on the eye. Add whatever psychological implications you'd like, and you've got yourself a great piece of modern art.

Dance (1) by Henri Matisse. This is actually a study for a painting commissioned by a rich Russian merchant for his palace, but it's not much different from the final version, which was paired with a contrasting painting titled Music. And, similar to Christina's World, this piece used to hang in a corner of the museum behind a staircase, where I would seek it out and visit it alone, since no one else bothered to look over there at it. Gladly, they've moved it to a much more prominent place, where viewers can better admire the simple--primal--beauty of the composition: earth, heaven, and mankind joined in a beautiful circle of joy and dance. I just love it.

Vincent Van Gogh's Portrait of Joseph Roulin. Perhaps the most famous of Van Gogh's works, The Starry Night, hangs near this portrait, and steals all the attention away from it, which is fine with me, because it gives me more room to stare at the strange and beautiful head with its curly beard and feminine floral background. My favorite painting subject is the portrait--people's faces are the most interesting landscape there is--and Van Gogh imbues this one with all his roiling emotion, marrying a long tradition of stark German and Dutch portraiture with the vibrant colors and joyous mood of the South of France. The form of Roulin is solidly placed in the center of a whimsical background, perhaps mirroring the dynamics of the friendship between the old stolid postmaster and the mentally tormented young artist.

One: Number 31, 1950 by Jackson Pollock. So what's the big deal about the splatter painting? These days it's almost like been there, done that when you think about Jackson Pollock's signature style. Still, it's very hard not to be arrested by the sight of this painting when you enter the room where it is housed. Commanding an entire wall, it draws you into it's spell, and the painting is best viewed up close, where you feel surrounded by the frenetic motion of it's drips, splatters, strokes, and expression. I can't really explain Pollock's genius, except to say that he did what no one else had ever done before, and did it beautifully. His paintings make me think of writing, music, city-life, nature, humanity, chaos, and order.

Honorable Mentions: Drowning by Roy Lichtenstein and Campbell's Soup Cans by Andy Warhol. Both pop artists are iconic and these two pieces are excellent examples of their work. It's easy to think of these as silly or gimmicky, but they have an undeniable charm, and are so much more interesting in real life than on the pages of an art history book. Then there is one corner of the MoMA that I call the "De Chirico Corner" because there three pieces by this master of surrealism are all hung together (one of them is pictured here). I love De Chirico's bright palette, mysterious choice of subject matter, and bold, flat painting style. Every one of his paintings is a treat to look at. Oh, and I can't forget to mention the skinniest painting in the world! The Wild by Barnett Newman is an oil on canvas seven feet tall but only 1.75 inches wide, which is hilarious because it is hung next to one of his monumental works. It always makes me laugh.

Last but not least, in the "Too Amazing to Categorize" category, is Picasso. Picasso was an utter and undeniable artistic genius, and I can't put him in my list of favorites because there are too many amazing pieces to choose from. His long and extremely prolific career is in an artistic universe of its own, so I'll just write a whole separate post about him later.

I recommend a visit to the MoMA for anyone. Among the pieces I've mentioned, the museum also houses incredibly famous paintings such as The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dali (you know, the one with the melting watches) as well as some of the most revolutionary paintings in modern art history, such as Picasso's Les Demoiselles D'Avignon. There is always some crazy special exhibit going on, too, so it's always a fun place to go.

Also, later I'm going to blog about crazy things I've seen happen at the MoMA, the art that "anyone could do" and the stuff that just looks like something you might find in a Harlem alleyway.

Goodbye Harlem Churches

2010-04-25T15:05:00.004-04:00

The people of Harlem are full of faith, said our stake president today as he gave a talk on the importance of doing missionary work in our own neighborhoods. He said that there are more churches concentrated in Harlem than in any other place in the United States. I readily agree with him, and I hope to have a chance to walk the streets of Harlem this week before I move away, to go down the little streets I have yet to venture down, and capture more pictures of churches so that I have a store of them to pull out and share even when I am no longer a resident of this faithful place.

Shoes of Silver and Gold

2010-04-23T10:46:00.004-04:00

I bought these little silver flats several years ago, to wear with a vintage ballgown to a fancy work event. They were some of the most expensive shoes I've ever bought (which isn't even that expensive, really), but their price was justified because they are cute, comfortable, and have made me look cute on many an occasion since then. At first I used to treasure them and only wear them for special occasions, to keep them nice. Now, they are nearing the end of their lives, and the New York City streets have worn them down to paper-thin soles and shredded silver leather. I've been wearing the heck out of them these past few weeks as I've traipsed all over town. As I try and pare down my belongings to a manageable move, I figure I might as well wear these shoes out to their last thread and then ditch them on my way out of town. But they're holding up really well, and maybe they'll still have enough life in them to see North Carolina again.

These silver shoes and I had a great time yesterday, walking all over town. It was a shopping day! Even though I can't afford anything, I decided to go walk around all the fancy stores, starting with Bergdorf Goodman. More like a museum visit, a trip to Bergdorf's for me is to stare in wonder at the intricately made dresses, the artful displays, the luxuries spread before my eyes. Bloomingdales was pretty much the same, although if I was dedicated about it I might have been able to find something semi-affordable on a sales rack. But like I said, I'm trying to downsize my personal collection. I did buy some makeup, however, as Christian Dior was having a rare free-gift promotion and I do love their foundation. A crazy Chinese makeup lady pancaked me up with it, going a little overboard, but if I use a light touch, it will work wonders for my wedding day complexion.

Speaking of the wedding day, it started to rain while I was walking downtown towards Saks so I ducked into Nine West and tried on some shoes I'd seen the other day. I think they will be perfect with my wedding dress. Pale gold and retro, and very me! The dress is still at the cleaners, so I can't really tell, but I think they will look perfect. I also stopped in the fashion district and bought some fabric to match my dress, because somehow I have to construct sleeves for it. It was very hard trying to find the perfect match--my dress is around 60 years old! But I found some silk satin that seems to be pretty darn close. I'll begin the alterations when I get back to North Carolina--it's too much of a project to start here when I'm about to move. I don't want to rush or make any mistakes.

My day of shopping took me to Saks, Macy's, and then down to So-Ho, and back up again. My treat of the day was Pop Burger, which is definitely in my top three cheeseburgers of New York. The chocolate shake was delicious too! Sitting outside the Apple store, people watching, drinking a chocolate shake--this is the type of New York experience I love and am going to miss.

Spring Storm in Harlem Town

2010-04-22T09:11:00.002-04:00

I've only got one more week until my mom and dad drive up here in their big old suburban and help me move back down south. That's only seven more days to fill up with all the things in New York I've never had time to do! I don't think it's even possible. Anyway, I've got to get organized about it, because yesterday I wasted all my time just wandering around the streets of Harlem. I did laundry, so that was useful, and then I decided to try and find a thrift shop where I could donate a bunch of stuff I've been winnowing out of my belongings (the suburban will only be able to fit so much stuff!) but the closest ones that came up on a google search turned out to not exist (a common problem with businesses in Harlem) so I ended up walking all the way across town to the east side, where there is a big Goodwill store. But over there, there is also a lot of scary neighborhoods. Maybe they just seem scary to me because I'm not from there, but it seems like there are more poor loiterers, beggars, and "street" guys over there. I made sure to walk quickly and with a purpose, eyes making contact with no one. I passed groups of men loitering under "No Loitering" signs, and guys playing chess in a housing project playground, men doing the "Harlem shuffle," and I passed a lot of really interesting churches, but I didn't have my camera, so I might have to go back!

As I walked, I encountered one of the problems with life on Manhattan. No matter which way you walk, the wind is blowing against you. Scientists ought to come here and study this phenomenon, because it is truly perplexing. The liner of my rolling cart acted as a sail, and the dust from the streets pelted my eyes, but when I could open them, I looked downtown and saw a big storm rolling up the island. Skyscrapers in the distance were ensconced in a dark blue haze, and the clouds were lowering. It was a long walk, but I dropped off the items and then hightailed it home, arriving just before big fat drops of rain began to fall.

But I was going out to meet friends downtown, so I quickly got ready and then dashed out the door and over to the subway. I didn't even bring an umbrella, but it was okay because when I arrived at Grand Central Station and came up from the underground, the rain had come and gone already. While the storm rolled up the island of Manhattan, I had passed underneath it and come out the other side. Ah, spring weather!

Random Update on My Life

2010-04-18T19:36:00.002-04:00

Dried cranberries from Fairway are my new favorite snack, and I'm eating them now and getting my keyboard all sticky, but I have to eat something because I'm starving and my roommates aren't coming home for another hour, but when they do we're going to have an enchilada feast with nachos too, and fancy cream soda, and even a few guests. But it's been a long time since lunch, a dried out street kebab on a bun, eaten on my too-short break from my too-long work day. The Park Avenue Armory has been my home for the past five days as I've been working the SOFA show. I'm ready for it to be over, but tomorrow is the last, longest, day. And I've got no Harlem church picture to post today because I have had no time to even take pictures. All my waking hours have been spent working. Then again, the work is kind of fun. Despite being on my feet all day on an old creaky wooden floor, I've been surrounded by a magnificent assortment of sculpture, jewelry, and objects d'art. Each exhibitor surpasses the next, and the pieces are all truly amazing. And I get to wear some pretty spectacular jewelry. Today I was bedecked in a silver spider-web made of delicate chain that draped over my shoulders and fell around me like a shimmery veil. It attracted much attention, which I could then deflect to the artist, who was there with me, putting her jewelry on any woman who stopped long enough. Then there are the people, the shoppers, the rich aesthetes of New York. One-of-a-kind would describe each one, each trying to surpass the other with her arts and crafts clothing, huge chunky jewelry, and artfully sculptured hair and makeup. Or, they are so rich and eccentric that they look like they've wandered in from a Central Park bench, and don't care. One woman today was describing to me an item of jewelry she owns, a very expensive item, which "must be somewhere but I can't find it under all the newspaper." It's times like this that make me think that wealth is wasted on the rich. If I had money to spend on those sorts of things, I would do a much better job of it. For one thing, I wouldn't make myself look like a clown to show off my wealth, and I wouldn't lose my treasures in a messy house. I would, however, take taxis everywhere instead of running in my heels all the way from Park Avenue to Madison in order to catch the crosstown bus that took me to the subway train where I had to wait a full half hour for my train to come and give me a very slow ride uptown with very interesting underground views of noisy construction work. Yes, I would be fine spending my money on taxi rides.

Stress!

2010-04-12T21:40:00.003-04:00

So what if I have been laying in my bed for the past 3 hours watching old episodes of America's Next Top Model? It's better than doing nothing. ...oh. Well, I just needed an escape for a moment. This week I've been sucked back into work, to help with a special event, and it is stressing me out. Add the stress of wedding planning, and I just don't feel like thinking or doing anything at the moment! It's a shame though, because New York is at its absolute most beautiful right now and, while I have been trying to enjoy it as much as possible, I resent having my time taken up with unneeded stress. Sigh... But the week will go by fast, and by this time next week it will all be over with! Then I'll have about ten more days to enjoy the beautiful city before saying goodbye to it. What do I plan to do? Visit musuems, walk through the parks, go to the opera, see sights, take pictures, party with friends, and generally just enjoy and revel in each moment and place. Oh, and pack!

Mt. Olivet

2010-04-11T18:41:00.002-04:00

The Harlem church of the week... from the side. With its neoclassical columns, this church looks more like a bank, and maybe it used to be one. The churches of Harlem often spring up in buildings once used for other purposes.

Bad Day

2010-04-08T21:26:00.004-04:00

Bad Things About Today:

1. I had to go to work.
2. When I got home from work the freezer was open all by itself and everything was melted.
3. I went dress shopping and had a good time but didn't find my dream dress.
4. My ipod suddenly stopped working and nothing will revive it.
5. I got lost on the subway to Queens.
6. I got three bug bites (I'm a magnet, I tell you!)
7. The friend's number that I thought I had is mysteriously not in my phone (and I don't like my new phone either.)

Sigh...

Good Things About Today:

1. I got to see people that I like at work.
2. C sent me an adorable e-mail, like he does every single day (I am so lucky!)
3. The weather was SOOO gorgeous, and the city so pretty.
4. Last night my roommate bought me an apple fritter (okay, so it was last night, but last night falls within the span of the last 24 hours.)
5. I learned about the Amber Room.
6. I witnessed a completely freakin' crazy person acting like a cat in the 14th Street 1 station. (ha ha! I'm so glad this is on the good list!)
7. I got to hang out with my stylist Rachel and shop for wedding dresses, which is fun even when its fruitless.

So you see, there were good things that happened today. I'm trying to look on the bright side! But I'm so sad about my ipod!

The Dress Dilemma

2010-04-05T18:55:00.003-04:00

Trying to find the perfect wedding dress is so much more frustrating and harder than I ever thought it would be! C says I just have a low tolerance for things I find to be below my standards of aesthetics and taste. That's a nice way of saying I'm picky and a snob. Well, I guess I'm owning it, because I really have had very little luck finding wedding dress options. They are all either strapless, practically strapless, too tiny, too fairy-princess, too youthful debutante looking, too Vegas, too winter-wedding, trashy, or just plain ugly. Or too expensive! Sigh. Money is wasted on the rich. However, I am not completely without options.

Option 1: The Project
In a moment of weakness and a perfect example of good salesmanship, I purchased a dress from Cheap Jack's Vintage. It has lovely lines and structure, but is definitely a fixer-upper. Simple and sweet, it has a portrait neckline with short capped sleeves and a front panel that frames a sort of sweetheart bodice that is fitted with darts and then flows down to the floor. Made of chiffon, it flows nicely and fits me perfectly. But the sequins are horrible, the material old and tired, and the dress itself unlined. So I bought it thinking I could easily just unpick all the seams, lay it out on some gorgeous new satin or silk and make myself a brand new dress using it as a pattern. I don't think it would be hard at all. The question is... do I want to take on such a project? I'm an okay seamstress, but don't know if I trust myself with such an important task. What if I botched it?

Option 2: The Pretty
On Saturday I went shopping all over Brooklyn and Manhattan with my dear friend Rachel, hitting all the best vintage stores we knew about, hoping to hit the jackpot and find the perfect dress. In between stops we happened to pass a store that wasn't on our list, but looked promising. There we found a wedding dress from the 1960s with a lacy high-neck, empire waist, and long frilly train. It had long sleeves and glued-on pearls, but it fit me perfectly and all the gay-guy employees of the store were oohing and ahhing and calling me resplendent. Plus it was only $36! So I had to get it. When I got it home I cut off the long sleeves, which made it much cuter, and tried it on a few more times. Everyone loves how I look in it, but I don't know if it's really me. When I wear it, it sort of seems like I'm in a costume, not my own wedding dress. Maybe it's the zipper that does that. For some reason I feel like having a zipper on the back of a wedding dress cheapens it. Is that crazy? I think a real wedding dress should have hooks and eyes or a row of gorgeous buttons. Something more heirloom than a zipper. Then again, the dress fits me very well and is quite pretty.

Option 3: The Perfect
My perfect dress has not been found yet, but I feel like I'll know it when I see it. It is long and lean, without a train or a puffy skirt. It is simple and yet has beautifully intricate details that make it special. It feels comfortable and is unfussy, yet formal. It is glamorous and unique, mature but feminine. I don't want to look like a little girl or a matron, but like a beautiful woman. Will I ever find the perfect dress? Only time will tell. The search continues...

Pretty

2010-04-05T18:50:00.002-04:00

Nothing is prettier than spring flowers! Also, I fulfilled a lifelong desire this weekend when I decided to buy the clementines with the leaves on. They are so pretty!

Church of the Crucifixion

2010-04-04T15:06:00.005-04:00

Coming upon this church, in the middle of old Harlem brownstones, is like coming across a large mushroom in the woods. You wonder how it happened to grow there, and what it's purpose is. I had to look closely to even see doors on this building, and I wonder how dark it is on the inside. The iron gate around it is spiked, like the spears of Roman soldiers.

Well, today is Easter, so thoughts of the Crucifixion and of the Resurrection have been on my mind. I'm so grateful to know that although Jesus was crucified, He was resurrected, and in so doing he brought about the salvation that makes my life infinitely more meaningful and hopeful. Because of His sacrifice, my sins can be forgiven, and I can be made whole again, spiritually and physically. It is such a profound gospel principle that I can hardly even understand, but my spirit feels hope and joy because of it, and I know it to be true.

Happy Easter!

Spring-Time in New York

2010-04-01T23:12:00.003-04:00

Spring has come to New York! It's beautiful. I'll be walking down the street and become suddenly arrested by the sight of daffodils or yellow and pink tulips or electric blue hyacinths, springing forth from little patches of earth within a huge gray concrete city. In the park, clouds of bright green among long-barren branches signal the emergence of new life. Blossoming trees take my breath away. This morning I walked around Roosevelt Island, where it was warm and sunny enough for people to be out grilling. Pretty soon they'll be turning on the AC and wearing mosquito repellant. For the moment though, it's just right.

Even though I was only gone for a week and a half, since I've returned to New York I feel like I've been gone for a year! Maybe it's the fact that Spring has come to the city that was still in Winter when I left it, or maybe it's the fact that I had such a wonderful time in North Carolina that I forgot all about New York, or maybe it is that I'm no longer working and feel free and renewed. I'm able to wake up each morning and plan my day with things that I want to do and see, and not be tied to a work schedule. This is such a luxury, and so far removed from just a few weeks ago, when I was a slave to my job. The last time I wasn't either working or in school was the year 2000. Eleven years ago. I think I deserve a break! So I plan to enjoy myself this month. Of course there will be things to do like pack and plan, but for the most part, I intend to enjoy these Spring days to the fullest, just soaking in the beauty and energy of this city that is so alive, and sprouting more life each day.

Church of the Week

2010-03-28T08:47:00.002-04:00

On my way out of New York City about a week and a half ago, I snapped this picture out the window of the moving bus I was on. It's the latest Harlem church picture, but I do plan to take more when I get back to the city. And I mean to blog more! I thought this week in NC would be replete with leisure time for blogging and sun-bathing and grand crochet projects, but who am I kidding? I've got a wedding to plan, a man to spend time with, and (while my parents were out of town) dogs and chickens and cats to take care of. But it has been the best week! I don't want to go back to New York--in fact, there have been moments when I've forgotten about the city altogether while I've been down here--but I do have to go there to pack and move, tie up all my loose ends. I'll be there one more month, give or take a few days, and then I'll be back in the South, where my new life will begin. I wonder if I should keep the name of my blog, or change it? Or start a new blog? Hmmm... we'll see.

My Family

2010-03-23T09:41:00.003-04:00

One of the most interesting things about coming home and staying with my family is just observing what each person here is busy doing. I get a slice of life that I miss out on when I'm away in New York or living somewhere else. Last night when I came home from C's house (where we were doing a 2-person crossword puzzle--how cute are we?), my big brother was in the garage making DJ speakers from scratch. This morning my other brother was all excited to tell me about the book he is writing, about Bigfoot. Apparently it's going to be the definitive volume. And then I got to have the experience of helping my little sister bleach the roots of her hair. What else she is up to, I have no idea, but she keeps posting cryptic and angst-filled little paragraphs on facebook that make me wonder. Sigh... I can remember how difficult it was to be a young girl, and I wish I could just pick my sister up out of it and set her down somewhere safe, with a clear and inspiring view of her potential life ahead.

Meanwhile, my other sister had her baby yesterday, so I have a new nephew named Kyle Ashton!

Spring Emerging

2010-03-21T22:22:00.006-04:00

The chickens, dogs, birds, cats, and hermit crabs are all fed and put to bed, and the plants are watered, the dishes done, and my sweetheart has bid me goodnight and gone home, and I've got a moment to blog. But wait! My sister needs me to brush bleach on her roots... okay, I'm coming!

Later... I'm back. She's been begging me for days to help do her hair. Finally I had a spare moment. But no spare moments to blog! I'm sort of taking care of the homestead while my parents are in Idaho, where my other sister is having a baby. But not just that. I'm also here to see my fiance, plan my wedding, and enjoy some free time. Mostly I've just been walking around in a lovesick daze, too blissed out to notice anything around me. Well, no, that's not quite true. I've been noticing the budding and blossoming trees, the electric yellow of the forsythias, the North Carolina farmland turning from red clay mud to lush green grass and clover. Spreading a blanket under the tree in the yard here at home, I spent a few leisurely hours contemplating the moss, the musical sound of tree frogs, and bees emerging from winter hives.

C and I spent Saturday doing some spring cleaning at his house, with a nice long break to nap in the garden amidst pansies and narcissus, the March sun strong and full of promise. I'm not exactly looking forward to summertime in the South, but spring time is sure nice. The breezes are redolent of flowering plum and pear trees, and you never know from one moment to the next if you'll need a sweater or shorts, mud boots or sandals. C showed me some trails today in the woods where he used to go running a lot. There we saw a stream where there used to be a mill, and the beautiful sandy and rocky banks were edged with soft green grasses, latent vines, and trees on the verge of bursting into leaf. The forests here are still ash-gray and silent, but little by little there are tiny white flowers popping up and almost undetectable leaf buds, insects emerging from their mysterious places, and birds singing the anthem of spring all around. I know it happens every year, but the miraculousness of spring never fails to amaze me.

We also spotted a coyote loping along an old railroad track in the woods today! That is definitely not something I'd see in Harlem, although some of the characters in my neighborhood can seem pretty similar. Anyway, it's nice to be back amongst nature, and here on the "farm" surrounded by the Carolina countryside in all her delicate springtime lace and finery, with family around and a good man at my side, it seems as if there is no better place in all the world to be.

North and South

2010-03-18T16:55:00.003-04:00

Phew! That's me, breathing a sigh of relief to be home in North Carolina again, finally done (for the most part) with my job in New York, and able to rest, relax, and begin wedding plans. After a week of rain in the city and the longest last week of work ever, I was so looking forward to flying South, and putting winter behind me.

My last day of work was on Tuesday, and afterwards I celebrated by making a huge pot of clam chowder and inviting a few friends over to share it. Then, Wednesday saw me up and packing, heading to the bus stop early, making a beeline for the airport. It was a beautiful sunny morning in New York, so different from last Saturday when an "unnamed hurricane" swept through and made a mess of the entire city and its neighbors. After such a weekend, this Wednesday morning March sunshine felt strange and hot and Harlem lay exposed before the onslaught of Spring. I know when I go back to the city, there will be daffodils in all the parks, ice cream trucks on the corners, and people out sitting on stoops again.

Meanwhile, I spent today laying in a backyard sunbeam having my sister throw flowers at me. "These little blue flowers would make such pretty confetti at your wedding! You just need to hire some cheap laborers to pick tons of them for you." Earlier we went to David's Bridal to try on dresses. It was pretty disappointing, because they literally have nothing with sleeves. Nothing! The saleslady showed me some hideous little boleros that can be worn over the shoulders, or you can pay extra to have little slips of beaded nothing sewed over the shoulders, but everything is so ugly. I did find one dress that was pretty and looked good on me, but it was backless! Sigh... I guess my next step is LDSbrides.com or someplace like that, but... for some reason I feel like I'm running my fingernails down a chalkboard when I look at those sorts of websites. So I'm hoping to find something vintage, something unique and different, something modest but gorgeous, something me.

Anyway, I'll definitely keep you updated!

Traveler's Rest

2010-03-14T15:14:00.002-04:00

I haven't quite reached the "rest" part of my life's "travels" but this is a cute name for a church, and I can see my rest in sight. A combination of daylight savings "spring forward" time change and the dark rainy morning caused me to sleep in an extra hour this morning and wake up without enough time to get to my church on time, so I went with my roommates to their ward instead. Compared to my large bustling noisy family ward, theirs was tiny, quiet, and very focused. The spiritual messages, talks, and lessons were all uplifting, and I felt my spirit renewed and refreshed--just like at an oasis, for a weary traveler.

Catching Up

2010-03-13T16:45:00.005-05:00

Yay! The week is over, and that means I only have two more days left of work, four days until I get to go home to North Carolina, about 50 days until I move back there, and roughly 100 days until I get married, give or take a week (no! the date has still not been set, so stop asking me!) There has been so much to do that I have neglected to blog about it all, so here are the highlights:

First the bad news. The dress I was in love with has left me for another. I guess it was reserved for another buyer on etsy, and I didn't realize it, so interrupted the arrangement when I purchased it. So my money was refunded and now I'm back to square one, plan B, or the drawing board--whatever metaphor works the best. I'm sure I'll find something... and it is fun to shop, that's for sure! But I hope I find something wonderful and perfect. E has been helping me out by sending links to dresses she's finding on e-bay and there are some amazing ones there. However, I don't think I will pick this one:

Celebrity sighting of the week is Rudy Giuliani, who seems to be following me. First I saw him last month in Palm Beach, and this week he was walking past the store where I work, when he stopped to look at a watch in the window. He then decided to come in and my coworker showed the watch and chatted with him for a moment before Giuliani rushed back out the door, only to then be accosted by tourists wanting to take pictures of him with their cell phones.

My replacement at work was finally hired! H seems a lot like me when I first started out, except she doesn't know a single thing, so I'm a little bit worried about her, but she didn't give up after the first day, or even the second, so that's one good sign. She asks good questions, and seems pretty cheerful, so I just hope she's not beaten down by the daily onslaught of craziness that I faced each day at that job.

I went out to Johnny Utah's on Wednesday night with some girls from work who wanted to give me a little bachelorette night of sorts. Johnny Utah's is such a popular place, I was expecting it to be lame, but it was actually really fun. Aside from Megan spilling her margarita into my shoe, I enjoyed hanging out with the downstairs girls. They even convinced me to go for a ride on the mechanical bull, which was pretty fun. And since I was the only one who rode it sober, I did an excellent job not falling off.

On Thursday night I went to a bridal shower for a girl in my ward who is getting married today, actually. The shower was held at this apartment on the 18th floor of a building (in Harlem) with huge windows overlooking Central Park North, so the view of the city skyline was amazing. The other perks of that night were getting to hold someone's newborn sleeping baby while sitting right next to the bride as she opened all her presents, and eating soul food (the greatest talent of the Harlem First Ward Relief Society) for dinner after a long day at work.

Today when I went to the Harlem Knitting Circle, I wasn't expecting to find myself writing a letter to Oprah Winfrey, but that's what I did. The lady in charge of the group is having some financial problems, and is also trying to become foster parent to a child who needs a stable home, and is at her wits end, so she is having everyone she knows write to Oprah for help. I don't know if she's even got a chance, but you never know. And I find it so interesting how Oprah has become to so many women an intercessory figure, with the power to reach down from Olympus, as it were, and bestow beneficence. (Oprah, if you do feel like helping us Harlem girls out, I've got a few ideas myself!)

Hmmm, what else happened this week? There must have been more, but it's all in the past now.

Two-fer

2010-03-07T16:48:00.003-05:00

Here's a two-fer. (If that's even a word!) Two churches right next to each other, to make up for some Sundays that I've neglected to post a picture of a Harlem church. Both of these look fairly new compared to so many of the churches I see around here. Spanish is the dominant language in this neighborhood, so it's no wonder that the church on the right has its sign in Spanish. Anyway, it's a gorgeous sunny Sunday today in Harlem, and I'm taking full advantage. So let me get back to my nap in a sunbeam...

Dresses

2010-03-06T16:49:00.005-05:00

Even though I already found a dress that I think is going to be just perfect for my wedding (if only it would hurry up and come in the mail!), I figure this is the only time I'm going to be a bride, so I might as well take full advantage of the situation and go to the Bridal Boutique at Macy's and try on big puffy fluffy dresses. I arrived without an appointment (which shows how much I know about this whole wedding-planning thing) with my two roommates in tow and spent about an hour looking at the dresses, trying to find one that wasn't strapless, but secretly loving several of the strapless ones anyway, just because they are all sooooo pretty and feminine.

Finally, one of the sales ladies was free to help me try dresses on. Sylvia was a hoot. Clucking over me like a grandmother hen, she whisked me into a beautiful cream colored wedding gown with a beaded bodice, empire waist, and a long flowing chiffon skirt. It was so pretty! Then she stuck a veil on my head and I strolled out into the viewing area. There my roommates were in chairs while I got to stand up on a little stage surrounded by mirrors and act like a Barbie doll. I posed and smiled, and felt radiant. Even though I knew it wasn't the dress I was going to get married in, it was just so much fun to be dressed in such a gorgeous creation. However, the second dress I tried on was even more beautiful than the first. (It is pictured above.) Having just one shoulder to the dress really framed and accentuated my other shoulder, and let me just be honest--I have nice shoulders. While I'm normally not a fan of the ruched waistline, this particular dress looked really good. Then, Sylvia stuck a veil on my head, and I felt like Grace Kelly. I have been trying to think of what kind of veil I want, and now that I've seen a few veils up close, I really feel like I could make one for myself easily. Thirdly, Sylvia helped me try on a white white gown. The first two had been cream colored, and she wanted to see how I would look in stark white. I looked good! I told her I'm a winter. Nobody uses that color chart anymore, but she knew exactly what I meant, and she said that while I could wear either cream or white and look great, I might as well wear bright white because it is more dramatic and I can carry it off. She was very complimentary, and funny. "What a fun job," I said, "to help brides choose their dresses!" She said she loves it, and not only that, she writes historical romance novels, so it gives her inspiration. As I stood up on the bridal dais, twirling and swishing my voluminous skirts of tulle and chiffon, Jessica surreptitiously took photos of me with her i-phone (cameras not allowed!). Sylvia told me (in the nicest manner) that I'd better hurry and decide on a dress because if I'm going to get married in June, there isn't much time! I told her I just needed to talk to my mom, but I would get back to her soon.

It was just a white lie--I didn't want to say that I was just playing, that I couldn't wear a strapless or one-shouldered dress, and that I have already found the most beautiful vintage dress that will be more practical and more perfect than any of those princess gowns I tried on. I just wish it would hurry up and come in the mail! I found my ideal dress on etsy, and it is truly vintage, from the 1950s. I love it because it is old, it is one-of-a-kind, and because it is simple and practical. Made of linen, it will be perfect for a summer wedding, and it's not so formal that I could never wear it again to another event. Plus, it is about one quarter the price of the most inexpensive dress at the Macy's Bridal Boutique. I just hope it looks good on me! Nevertheless, it was so much fun to try on big puffy wedding dresses and, with visions of storybook weddings dancing through my head, my next stop was Kate's Paperie to look at wedding invitations!

Work

2010-03-04T20:26:00.005-05:00

Wow! Sorry to be so absent from the blogging world this week. To be honest, I'm just focusing all my attention on finishing my job and moving on with my life. Work has become so difficult, almost unbearable, as the staff has dwindled from 22 people when I first started 2 years ago down to 15 now. That may not seem like a lot, but the positions that have been eliminated or come open have almost all been absorbed by me! So, basically, I'm doing the jobs of five people. And, this week two people are out--one on vacation and one with a health problem. Add to that the task of finding and interviewing candidates for my replacement. There are literally not enough hours in the day for me to accomplish all the things my bosses expect me to do, which is very hard for me, because I have a very strong sense of responsibility towards whatever job I am in. While I realize I can only do so much, I want to do everything and get it all done quickly and well. And, I want things to be organized, clear, and all the loose ends tied up for the next person who comes along. The only way I get through is to remind myself that in eight days I'll be ALL DONE! Well, maybe not all done. My boss has asked if I'd be willing to come back for "special events." That means next month for 5 days, working an off-site show. Of course I said yes, because I'm too responsible! And because I will need money. After all, I've got a wedding to put on. But then, how can I plan a wedding if I'm always working? It's a Catch-22 situation. I demand justice! I'll tell you what justice is. Justice is a knee in the gut from the floor on the chin at night sneaky with a knife brought up down on the magazine of a battleship sandbagged underhanded in the dark without a word of warning.* Sigh...

*Joseph Heller, Catch-22, chapter 8

Into the Deep

2010-02-28T08:16:00.003-05:00

Finally I am actually resuming my Harlem Church series here on my blog! I'll have to walk the length and breadth of Harlem before I leave New York and take a picture of every single church that I haven't captured yet, so that I can continue to post them when I move back to North Carolina. Or maybe I will start posting Southern churches. There are so many there, too! Meanwhile, I'm glad I was able to get a picture of Grace United church in the winter, when the tree right in front of it was bare, because otherwise it would have been impossible to see anything. I'm so curious about the message on the sign--the name of the sermon? I wonder if it was about Jonah and the whale.

I've Lost It

2010-02-26T19:29:00.003-05:00

Everyone says I'm walking around with my head in the clouds, without a care in the world. It's true that the three days of non-stop snow hasn't even registered with me. I'm seeing sunshine and rainbows in my mind. So yesterday, when my boss' wife ran over to my desk and demanded to know: "Will you definitely be here tomorrow no matter what?" I just smiled and said "yah." I've been operating on an amazing combination of sleep deprivation, euphoria, and Diet Coke, which seems to be working just fine. Except for yesterday morning when, early in the workday, Dali pointed out that I'd worn a pair of torn stockings to work. I bent to take a look, and bumped my head very hard on the side of the huge refrigerator-sized safe. That required a sit-down, a few Excedrins, and a few hours before I felt right again. But it probably kind of woke me up.

Maybe the daze I'm in has caused my recent spate of forgetfulness and propensity to lose things. On Wednesday I was convinced that I'd lost my watch for good. My darling little gold watch that I put on every morning wasn't on the bedside table where I always put it. I searched around my room to no avail, and since I had jury duty that morning, I spent the entire time mourning the loss of my watch, which I finally convinced myself had somehow fallen off my wrist onto the street, where I'd rushed unconsciously away, listening only to the sound of my i-pod earphones. However, that night when I went home I decided to search one more place, and found the watch in the pocket of the jeans I'd worn Tuesday night. A relief! But strange to have no memory of ever taking the watch off and putting it there.

Last night Peter called and demanded to see the hardware. He didn't want to borrow the drill, he wanted to see my ring! So I went over to his house, where I found my roommates congregated (skipping Institute class) watching the Olympics. After an hour or so of watching, I decided I needed to go get my computer so I could get a few things done, so I went back out into the blustery snow-filled night, only to discover when I got to my door that my apartment keys were no longer on my keychain! I couldn't believe it, and searched my pockets to no avail. Finally I just went back to Peter's house and borrowed my roommate's keys. But on my way back home again, even though I was sure that some miscreant had found my keys, entered the building and tried every door until they found mine and then stole all of my belongings, I decided to look very carefully on the ground. And, as luck would have it, amidst the horizontally blowing wind that was piling the fist-sized snowflakes into huge drifts, I looked down and noticed the tiniest glint of metal from under a patch of snow, and it was my keys! Thanking the storm, because on any other night the keys would have been ultra-visible and a temptation to any passerby, I scooped them up and felt the wave of relief wash over me.

The thing is, I'm not a forgetful person, and I rarely lose things (E will say except for metro cards!) but the past few days seem to prove otherwise. Hopefully its not a trend that will last. Then again, if it means coming down from this wonderful high that I'm on from being in love and engaged to be married, then forget about it--I'll just have to accept the fact that I'm going to lose things on a daily basis from now on. I have never felt like this before.

Of Course, The Cookies!

2010-02-24T20:29:00.003-05:00

My new favorite pastime is shocking people by telling them that I'm engaged. It's fun to see people's reactions, because nobody saw it coming! On Tuesday, my Israeli watch dealer/cookie supplier brought me a little bag of my favorite shortbread cookies dipped in chocolate from Sant Ambroeus, and when I told him my news, and flashed my diamond ring at him, he was quite surprised too. But after congratulating me, he said that he's not really surprised, "It was the cookies that did it," he said. According to him, the cookies he's brought me every week have kept me so happy, relaxed, contented, and therefore more charming. "The cookies made you beautiful, so no wonder you found a husband!" If not this guy, he said, another would have snapped me up soon enough. And just then another watch dealer--a creepy strange one--walked in and said, "Yeah, I had my eye on you, but now I'm too late!" I laughed at them both, smiling inwardly at the thought of cookies leading to love. And I have my own theories as to what brought my man and I together, but I sure have appreciated my weekly gift of cookies, and I will miss them when I'm gone. I wonder if Sant Ambroeus ships?

The Big Reveal

2010-02-22T20:05:00.003-05:00

I know there are probably a few people who read this blog and are totally confused about the news in my last post, because me suddenly getting engaged seemed to come right out of the blue. Well, the whole thing has happened rather quickly, and the reason why I haven't shared much information is because it has been both a very extremely personal and a very spiritual experience.

The part I can tell you is that I'm definitely in love! I'm engaged to a man I've known for many years, whose character I've seen in many different situations, and know to be of sterling quality. He's a man I've always been drawn to mentally and intellectually, and who has been a friend, confidante, and anchor to me the whole time I have known him. But I didn't know I was going to fall in love with him or marry him!

It all happened when I went home for the holidays. I went to say hello to him, like I always did when I was in town, but something different happened that day. It was as if my eyes were opened and I suddenly knew that he was the man I was going to marry. Something prompted me to share that feeling with him, and while I wondered if perhaps I had lost my mind, I felt so right and so calm and peaceful the entire time, somehow, miraculously, knowing that we were meant to be together. I can't even explain it! I'm learning that God has a plan for us, and is guiding us, and if we just listen and follow His promptings, our lives will be blessed, we will receive answers to prayers, and discover that the most wonderful things are possible.

During the past few months we stayed in constant communication, sorting out our feelings, quickly falling deeply in love, until the moment came that he asked me to please marry him, and make our dreams come true. How could I refuse? In the short span of this new year, my heart has opened up to him and blossomed with love. There were so many times I wanted to write about it here, but it has been so special, so sweet and wonderful, that I can't even find the words to use. But I'm sure if you read between the lines, you probably knew something was up. And now it's official! I am engaged to be married, to the best man I've ever met, who absolutely adores me, and who I love in return.

So, after a whirlwind weekend of flying to North Carolina and getting engaged, and finally announcing it to friends and family, I'm back in the city for a little while longer, to finish my job here and tie up the loose ends of my city life. Then, home awaits me down South, with a fresh start, a wonderful new beginning. Don't worry--I'll keep blogging. I'll try not to gush, but it will be hard!