For reasons I won't detail here, I've decided to end this blog prematurely. No big crisis here, babies are fine, but for my own reasons this isn't something I want to continue.
Thank you for reading and (hopefully) enjoying my words over the past year!
Best regards,
Stina
Friday, September 10, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Happy Days
I imagine that Hurricane Earl spied our late-staying visitor, summer, and swept her away to sea. Whether he can take credit or not, I really cannot say, but by his or someone else's good graces, the air here has finally changed. Windows are open to the across-the-street neighbor's last-of-summer pool party, and while newscasters lament the end of the season at the shore, the third floor set is in a great state of rejoicing.
The crisper sunshine and cooler breezes have initiated a lovely weekend which I record for the sake of remembrance here:
Friday our offices closed early so Gus and I drove home together and enjoyed a siesta before my acupuncture appointment downtown. We caught a later dinner at Jack's Firehouse across from the Eastern State Penitentiary before heading home to our first full night without the air conditioner since May.
Yesterday, a mid-day walk, innocuous enough but unheard of these many months, and a visit again to my favorite store Terrain. For lunch, Gus' vegetarian sandwich and the Sunday crossword. That evening, a drive downtown to Matyson BYOB where we met up with friends for a fantastic dinner. Below, my attempt at making elastic waistband hip and fashionable:
Note my fabulous Hermes mini scarf which I tied to my bag!
Today, after pancakes in bed (how luxurious!), another breezy walk followed by a trip to JoAnn Fabrics for a few Halloween projects, inspired by the most recent issue of Country Living. Laundry hung outside, I worked on an embroidery project while Gus studied. We caught an early evening show ("The American" with George Clooney) and plan to tuck into lentil soup with baguette and cheese for dinner.
Life is so good!
The crisper sunshine and cooler breezes have initiated a lovely weekend which I record for the sake of remembrance here:
Friday our offices closed early so Gus and I drove home together and enjoyed a siesta before my acupuncture appointment downtown. We caught a later dinner at Jack's Firehouse across from the Eastern State Penitentiary before heading home to our first full night without the air conditioner since May.
Yesterday, a mid-day walk, innocuous enough but unheard of these many months, and a visit again to my favorite store Terrain. For lunch, Gus' vegetarian sandwich and the Sunday crossword. That evening, a drive downtown to Matyson BYOB where we met up with friends for a fantastic dinner. Below, my attempt at making elastic waistband hip and fashionable:
Note my fabulous Hermes mini scarf which I tied to my bag!
Today, after pancakes in bed (how luxurious!), another breezy walk followed by a trip to JoAnn Fabrics for a few Halloween projects, inspired by the most recent issue of Country Living. Laundry hung outside, I worked on an embroidery project while Gus studied. We caught an early evening show ("The American" with George Clooney) and plan to tuck into lentil soup with baguette and cheese for dinner.
Life is so good!
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Final Exam
Across Penn’s campus, freshman and their families are unloading dorm room essentials onto every available space on the sidewalk, IKEA lamps wobbling in their stands and full-length mirrors reflecting the searing sunshine. Earlier this morning, on my walk to the train, the first bright yellow school bus of the year rumbled by down the streets of Ardmore, a smattering of kids forlornly gazing out the windows at the end of summer.
Although the weather outside doesn’t betray it, fall is here in that the start of the school year is here. Gus also is beginning what will be his last semester of his last year of his last degree for life. He’s now a “Super Senior,” the heroic name for students in the program’s last stretch. Instead of a typical course load, his time is now split between three clinical days and two study days, either structured in a classroom or at home. The focus for the students is now on passing their board exam, which to the tune of $700 gives you one more reason to pass the first go 'round.
A study center has been set up in our apartment. A square wooden table, which I had used for sewing but which had fallen into disuse due to the air conditioner in a very nearby window, has been moved to a corner of our bedroom. A lamp and a Mason jar of pencils and highlighters has been added to teetering towers of books, notes, and PowerPoint printouts to be intensely reviewed and re-reviewed over the next months before the exam is scheduled.
Although the weather outside doesn’t betray it, fall is here in that the start of the school year is here. Gus also is beginning what will be his last semester of his last year of his last degree for life. He’s now a “Super Senior,” the heroic name for students in the program’s last stretch. Instead of a typical course load, his time is now split between three clinical days and two study days, either structured in a classroom or at home. The focus for the students is now on passing their board exam, which to the tune of $700 gives you one more reason to pass the first go 'round.
A study center has been set up in our apartment. A square wooden table, which I had used for sewing but which had fallen into disuse due to the air conditioner in a very nearby window, has been moved to a corner of our bedroom. A lamp and a Mason jar of pencils and highlighters has been added to teetering towers of books, notes, and PowerPoint printouts to be intensely reviewed and re-reviewed over the next months before the exam is scheduled.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Pink Slip
The time finally came; I gave notice at work. Like a good girl, I gave five weeks, mainly in the hopes that they will hire someone before I leave so I don’t have to answer questions post-October 1. Twenty-three more days behind the desk and that’s it for me for a good, good long while. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time, the closing of a long-winded, difficult and choppy chapter and the fulfillment of a promise made years ago. And then, on to the much more appealing position of children-rearing and homemaking. Sounds heavenly from here!
I’ll do my best to remain positive these last few days although it’s hard. I’ve been surviving on a steady diet of short timers for some time now and a resignation letter and another countdown doesn’t help any. But, it’s the busiest time of the year here so I’m hoping for a downhill sprint to the finish. Although my departure won’t be nearly as fantastical as Steven Slater, it will likely bring me the same degree of satisfaction!
“Take this job and shove it I ain't workin' here no more!”
--Johnny Paycheck
I’ll do my best to remain positive these last few days although it’s hard. I’ve been surviving on a steady diet of short timers for some time now and a resignation letter and another countdown doesn’t help any. But, it’s the busiest time of the year here so I’m hoping for a downhill sprint to the finish. Although my departure won’t be nearly as fantastical as Steven Slater, it will likely bring me the same degree of satisfaction!
“Take this job and shove it I ain't workin' here no more!”
--Johnny Paycheck
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Basket Case
Gus and I spent the morning cleaning up clutter and packing away nonessential items in preparation for our move to Seattle. I sorted through my craft project basket and found there a pattern for making a basket which I bought on our visit to Harper's Ferry last year.
The package said "For years 8 and up" so I figured easy enough, right?
First, I took out the package contents and soaked the wood strips:
Then, I wove a square to create the bottom of the basket:
After folding up the spokes to create the sides of the basket I began weaving, first with 1/2 inch weaver and then with 1/4 inch:
Once the basket reached the desired height, I added the handle and pinned the basket's upper rim into place, wrapping a 1/4 inch reed around the rim to secure:
And, the finished product!
It's not perfect and there were some frustrating moments, but overall this was a fun project and a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon!
The package said "For years 8 and up" so I figured easy enough, right?
First, I took out the package contents and soaked the wood strips:
Then, I wove a square to create the bottom of the basket:
After folding up the spokes to create the sides of the basket I began weaving, first with 1/2 inch weaver and then with 1/4 inch:
Once the basket reached the desired height, I added the handle and pinned the basket's upper rim into place, wrapping a 1/4 inch reed around the rim to secure:
And, the finished product!
It's not perfect and there were some frustrating moments, but overall this was a fun project and a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Out of Towners
How is it that some time can pass so quickly while other drags on into eternity? The past week since my mom and stepdad arrived has gone in the blink of an eye. We've been so busy! Last Thursday night, we went to our first Phillies game which was great fun. The packed stadium of 50,000 plus was a sea of cheering fans in hometown red. The team rallied in the ninth inning but lost. Still, a great time!
The next day we left for Milford, Pennsylvania to stay at the Hotel Fauchere. The trip up there lasted way longer than we expected due to summer road construction, but once we finally arrived we found the hotel to be incredibly comfortable and relaxing. We spent the next two days enjoying our rooms and exploring the town of Milford. In the town's museum, the flag that Abraham Lincoln's head rested on after he was shot is displayed.
On Monday, we left for Gettysburg, another long car ride but not as many delays this time. We stayed in a fantastic bed and breakfast called The Brickhouse Inn, very near the quaint town's center. We hired a guide to take us around the national park in our car, which was a great choice as he was an incredibly knowledgeable and interesting person from whom we all learned a great deal. The museum of the park was great as well with a film, cyclorama and many Civil War artifacts that were fascinating to look at. What a lovely day!
Today we returned to Philadelphia, dropped off the guys and my mom and I drove out to Terrain at Styer's Nursery one last time together. It made me sad to think this is the last time we'll visit this store (which we absolutely love!) together. I'll probably visit one or twice more before we leave.
A few photos of our B&B in Gettysburg:
The next day we left for Milford, Pennsylvania to stay at the Hotel Fauchere. The trip up there lasted way longer than we expected due to summer road construction, but once we finally arrived we found the hotel to be incredibly comfortable and relaxing. We spent the next two days enjoying our rooms and exploring the town of Milford. In the town's museum, the flag that Abraham Lincoln's head rested on after he was shot is displayed.
On Monday, we left for Gettysburg, another long car ride but not as many delays this time. We stayed in a fantastic bed and breakfast called The Brickhouse Inn, very near the quaint town's center. We hired a guide to take us around the national park in our car, which was a great choice as he was an incredibly knowledgeable and interesting person from whom we all learned a great deal. The museum of the park was great as well with a film, cyclorama and many Civil War artifacts that were fascinating to look at. What a lovely day!
Today we returned to Philadelphia, dropped off the guys and my mom and I drove out to Terrain at Styer's Nursery one last time together. It made me sad to think this is the last time we'll visit this store (which we absolutely love!) together. I'll probably visit one or twice more before we leave.
A few photos of our B&B in Gettysburg:
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Visitors
Today my mom and John arrive in Philadelphia after driving across the country from Seattle. They'll take the train back home, as the plan is to leave their SUV here so we can drive it back come November. It's larger and plusher than our car which will make for a more comfortable ride, especially now that I'll be 26 weeks along.
We have a lot of fun activities planned during their visit including a nice trip out of town, but tonight, after they settle in to their hotel and rest, we're making dinner at our house. We're going to have spinach dip with homemade pita chips (not the usual recipe but a great dressed up one from Everyday Food), spatchcocked chicken with garbanzo beans, cilantro and lime, rice and salad. For dessert, last night I whipped up (literally) a blackberry fool that looks fantastic!
So looking forward to seeing some familiar faces and enjoying our time together!
We have a lot of fun activities planned during their visit including a nice trip out of town, but tonight, after they settle in to their hotel and rest, we're making dinner at our house. We're going to have spinach dip with homemade pita chips (not the usual recipe but a great dressed up one from Everyday Food), spatchcocked chicken with garbanzo beans, cilantro and lime, rice and salad. For dessert, last night I whipped up (literally) a blackberry fool that looks fantastic!
So looking forward to seeing some familiar faces and enjoying our time together!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Happy Anniversary!
Today is my tenth wedding anniversary, at once an age ago and yet unbelievable that a decade has passed between today and August 12, 2000.
Over the years, my memory of our wedding ceremony and reception has faded. I know there are a million details from that day that I've forgotten. What was fresh the next day, the next week or even the next year has been lost over time, mixed in with so much life lived in the meantime. Despite these losses, to be re-remembered only in our wedding video, a few photographs and the recall of others, there is one element of that day that has remained for me crystal clear, as fresh as that bright, sunny day ten years ago.
It's not my dress, although it was gorgeous. It's not the band, although they were catchy! It's not the food, although it was tasty. And it's not even the rings, although they were shiny. Believe it or not, it's actually our wedding vows. And really, the whole reason for the event and its pomp and gaiety at all. Call my corny or completely cliche, but I admit I really do repeat our vows to myself every so often and have done so consistently over the last ten years. Under my breath as I walk to the train. As I sweep the living room floor. At night before I fall asleep. While gardening. Not every day, certainly, not every month, but often enough to check in with those seven said lines and know I've kept my word each and every day. To see how that promise applies to our lives right now, differently or similar to years past and how I will continue keep it true in the many years ahead.
And so, from memory, the most important words I've ever said, in celebration and in honor of ten special years:
Over the years, my memory of our wedding ceremony and reception has faded. I know there are a million details from that day that I've forgotten. What was fresh the next day, the next week or even the next year has been lost over time, mixed in with so much life lived in the meantime. Despite these losses, to be re-remembered only in our wedding video, a few photographs and the recall of others, there is one element of that day that has remained for me crystal clear, as fresh as that bright, sunny day ten years ago.
It's not my dress, although it was gorgeous. It's not the band, although they were catchy! It's not the food, although it was tasty. And it's not even the rings, although they were shiny. Believe it or not, it's actually our wedding vows. And really, the whole reason for the event and its pomp and gaiety at all. Call my corny or completely cliche, but I admit I really do repeat our vows to myself every so often and have done so consistently over the last ten years. Under my breath as I walk to the train. As I sweep the living room floor. At night before I fall asleep. While gardening. Not every day, certainly, not every month, but often enough to check in with those seven said lines and know I've kept my word each and every day. To see how that promise applies to our lives right now, differently or similar to years past and how I will continue keep it true in the many years ahead.
And so, from memory, the most important words I've ever said, in celebration and in honor of ten special years:
I take you, Gustavo, to be my husband and these things I promise you:
I will be faithful to you and honest with you.
I will respect, trust, help and care for you.
I will share my life with you.
I will forgive you as we have been forgiven,
and I will try with you to better understand ourselves, the world, and God,
through the best and worst of what is to come, as long as we live.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Forget-Me-Not
Today someone stood me up. We were supposed to meet for lunch but she never showed. I called and left a message but she didn't answer so that was that. I had a moment of politely wondering if something terrible had happened but deep down you know that's not the case. She just forgot, I guess. Which happens, I suppose.
Not as easily forgotten as a missed lunch date are the times when this has happened to you; fortunately, these moments do not come often. Maybe ten years ago I invited a friend for dinner. Gus and I bought the wine, made the dinner, set the table and waited. And waited. Dinner grew cold, the candles burned down, the wine was drunk as the sky darkened. She never showed. I called, but nothing. She had, simply, forgotten. Of course, the next day when she checked her answering machine she was mortified, but by then it really is too late. On her end promises were made for a redo, but we didn't invite her back and the friendship soon fizzled.
Oh well, happens to the best of us, right?
Not as easily forgotten as a missed lunch date are the times when this has happened to you; fortunately, these moments do not come often. Maybe ten years ago I invited a friend for dinner. Gus and I bought the wine, made the dinner, set the table and waited. And waited. Dinner grew cold, the candles burned down, the wine was drunk as the sky darkened. She never showed. I called, but nothing. She had, simply, forgotten. Of course, the next day when she checked her answering machine she was mortified, but by then it really is too late. On her end promises were made for a redo, but we didn't invite her back and the friendship soon fizzled.
Oh well, happens to the best of us, right?
"Ill customs and bad advice are seldom forgotten."
--Benjamin Franklin
Monday, August 9, 2010
Panza Llena
On Saturday, Gus made a big pot of pinto beans, which meant this morning I was in for a real treat. For breakfast, he made homemade refried beans and eggs with a flour tortilla. The only item that would have made it better was some fresh salsa, but we were short on time and tomatoes so, next time. In any event, the true breakfast of champions!
-----
In other news, today was the first day I found I couldn't button my favorite pair of Sevens so I had to cut the tags off my "Tummy Tube" and slip it on. It's very comfortable and definitely does the job of extending the life of your pre-pregnancy jeans because you can leave the jeans unbuttoned and the tube keeps them in place.
So far, the most annoying part of being pregnant, since I seemed to have skipped morning sickness, has been the vast quantities of unsolicited and unwanted advice that comes your way from anyone and everyone who has ever had a baby or been within a one mile radius of a baby sometime in the last sixty years. Amongst the masses has been a fair share of ladies that seriously doubt that I could possibly be showing before they did, which I've gathered from the comments with a singleton is not this early. Well, with twins, your bump is 6-8 weeks ahead of a single so my slight showing at 11 weeks is right on track.
The jeans don't lie ladies.
And no, it's not because I ate a Paul Bunyon-sized breakfast either. The jeans were on before I tucked in to Gus' cooking.
-----
In other news, today was the first day I found I couldn't button my favorite pair of Sevens so I had to cut the tags off my "Tummy Tube" and slip it on. It's very comfortable and definitely does the job of extending the life of your pre-pregnancy jeans because you can leave the jeans unbuttoned and the tube keeps them in place.
So far, the most annoying part of being pregnant, since I seemed to have skipped morning sickness, has been the vast quantities of unsolicited and unwanted advice that comes your way from anyone and everyone who has ever had a baby or been within a one mile radius of a baby sometime in the last sixty years. Amongst the masses has been a fair share of ladies that seriously doubt that I could possibly be showing before they did, which I've gathered from the comments with a singleton is not this early. Well, with twins, your bump is 6-8 weeks ahead of a single so my slight showing at 11 weeks is right on track.
The jeans don't lie ladies.
And no, it's not because I ate a Paul Bunyon-sized breakfast either. The jeans were on before I tucked in to Gus' cooking.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Yoga for Three
Last night, I attended my first prenatal yoga class, at my usual yoga studio The Yoga Garden in Narberth, PA. I was hesitant to attend prior to this week, feeling it was too early and even at ten weeks I was worried I wouldn't fit in with all the second and third trimester bellies. My slight fears were for naught, though, as there were women at all stages of pregnancy. Being pregnant with twins is a great ice breaker, even with this crowd, as people had plenty of questions.
It was great to be in a class completely focused on the unique changes the dozen or so of us are experiencing. The poses we did were centered around stretching, flexibility and strength helpful during pregnancy and birth. We also did two sets of Kegels and plenty of breathing exercises. During savasana (modified for those further along), the instructor reminded us that our babies are completely content right now. They have everything they need and they are happy and relaxed in the homes being provided to them. So when we are stressed in our daily lives, she suggested that it's okay to draw on their calm as a source of strength and use this a reminder to take it easy. I really liked this idea and it provided a great visual.
Looking forward to next week's class!
It was great to be in a class completely focused on the unique changes the dozen or so of us are experiencing. The poses we did were centered around stretching, flexibility and strength helpful during pregnancy and birth. We also did two sets of Kegels and plenty of breathing exercises. During savasana (modified for those further along), the instructor reminded us that our babies are completely content right now. They have everything they need and they are happy and relaxed in the homes being provided to them. So when we are stressed in our daily lives, she suggested that it's okay to draw on their calm as a source of strength and use this a reminder to take it easy. I really liked this idea and it provided a great visual.
Looking forward to next week's class!
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Full Circle
For fourteen years, our little family has been just Gus and me. No roommates, no pets, never so much as a gulping goldfish has kept us company. I suppose one could say our family circle has been more like a rectangle these many years, as each of my hands is held in his, strong, soft and sure. It's nice here, in our little box, comfortable, quiet and all to ourselves. The rare opportunity to live long and deeply without interruption with another person, his shoulder, arm and outstretched hands melding into mine until one can hardly be distinguished from the other, much less separated.
And so, in the days of late, it has been with great wonder that the two of us have begun the process of extracting one hand each from the other, slowly creaking one set side of our elongated square open to welcome not one, but two into our small midst. Each of us readying to reach out for a new hand that will become as familiar as the one just let go. In this, a true circle will now be formed as we begin a new journey, anchored in the same love and commitment that has guided us this far, as we await the arrival of twin babies on, or likely before, February 26, 2011.
And so, in the days of late, it has been with great wonder that the two of us have begun the process of extracting one hand each from the other, slowly creaking one set side of our elongated square open to welcome not one, but two into our small midst. Each of us readying to reach out for a new hand that will become as familiar as the one just let go. In this, a true circle will now be formed as we begin a new journey, anchored in the same love and commitment that has guided us this far, as we await the arrival of twin babies on, or likely before, February 26, 2011.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Repentish
Okay Philly, I'm semi sorta slightly sorry, but only just.
The wet heat built and built until the pressure burst and a rumbling storm crashed through the city, slapping and swirling its wet, windy way east, lightening in streaks across the dark sky. When I stepped outside after my acupuncture appointment into its drizzly aftermath, I found the air surprisingly...nice? Clean. Breathable. By the time we arrived home, it was downright lovely. The air conditioners shuddered to a welcome stop and windows were yanked open to welcome the fresh breezy air and birdsong, temperatures which fell to the unfamiliar mid-60s by morning.
Maybe it's not so bad here after all, only just ever so slightly maybe and that's completely contingent on this livable weather pattern sticking around. Otherwise, we're back to shameless spit and vinegar.
The wet heat built and built until the pressure burst and a rumbling storm crashed through the city, slapping and swirling its wet, windy way east, lightening in streaks across the dark sky. When I stepped outside after my acupuncture appointment into its drizzly aftermath, I found the air surprisingly...nice? Clean. Breathable. By the time we arrived home, it was downright lovely. The air conditioners shuddered to a welcome stop and windows were yanked open to welcome the fresh breezy air and birdsong, temperatures which fell to the unfamiliar mid-60s by morning.
Maybe it's not so bad here after all, only just ever so slightly maybe and that's completely contingent on this livable weather pattern sticking around. Otherwise, we're back to shameless spit and vinegar.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Major Grump.
I hate summer. There, I said it. I suppose I could qualify and say this particular summer in this particular city is the object of my ire but why bother.
Although I'm sure spring was in there somewhere, it feels as though we went from this nightmare to its current incarnation, a neverending stretch of sweltering 90 degree plus weather, the days only defined by whether or not the humidity is also stifling and whether or not a severe, soaking thunderstorm is in the forecast.
I'm still trying to figure out the definition of this "Summer Fun" people gab on about. Sweating at dawn, sucking down Freon, literally unable to go outside, what the hell is so fun about this crap? Maybe if I was a Main Line housewife, wiling away the heat lounging by the pool under an umbrella in linen and flip-flops, sipping lemonade and browsing the latest Lilly Pulitzer catalog (actually, scratch that last one as that shit's nasty) things wouldn't seem so bad, but for the rest of us that don't have a porch, much less a pool, and, anyway, have to schlep downtown everyday by the power of our own two feet where it's even hotter, stinkier and more miserable than the 'burbs, I really don't see the yearly appeal.
Check the weather report for Ardmore, PA anytime, any day and all you'll see is complete misery as far as a squinting, sunburned eye can see. If I didn't know I'm escaping this pulsing inferno in - what's that I see, 116 days? - I'd have to seriously question my overall mental stability to stay in this burnt-to-a-crisp hellhole. Don't all these millions of people realize it doesn't have to be this way? That there can be life without crushing humidity, constant air conditioning, flash floods and excessive heat warnings every time you turn around? On second thought, never mind. Let them continue to think we all still deck ourselves out in grunge flannel, hug trees, eat tempeh and live in log cabins singing Kumbaya to the fertility goddesses. That is rains a lot out there. Oh, and that "you'se all don't have decent pizza and hoagies." Yes, heaven forbid one can't find gray meat, processed cheese product and sodium on a bun. At least we don't have this shade of shit summer weather.
Although I'm sure spring was in there somewhere, it feels as though we went from this nightmare to its current incarnation, a neverending stretch of sweltering 90 degree plus weather, the days only defined by whether or not the humidity is also stifling and whether or not a severe, soaking thunderstorm is in the forecast.
I'm still trying to figure out the definition of this "Summer Fun" people gab on about. Sweating at dawn, sucking down Freon, literally unable to go outside, what the hell is so fun about this crap? Maybe if I was a Main Line housewife, wiling away the heat lounging by the pool under an umbrella in linen and flip-flops, sipping lemonade and browsing the latest Lilly Pulitzer catalog (actually, scratch that last one as that shit's nasty) things wouldn't seem so bad, but for the rest of us that don't have a porch, much less a pool, and, anyway, have to schlep downtown everyday by the power of our own two feet where it's even hotter, stinkier and more miserable than the 'burbs, I really don't see the yearly appeal.
Check the weather report for Ardmore, PA anytime, any day and all you'll see is complete misery as far as a squinting, sunburned eye can see. If I didn't know I'm escaping this pulsing inferno in - what's that I see, 116 days? - I'd have to seriously question my overall mental stability to stay in this burnt-to-a-crisp hellhole. Don't all these millions of people realize it doesn't have to be this way? That there can be life without crushing humidity, constant air conditioning, flash floods and excessive heat warnings every time you turn around? On second thought, never mind. Let them continue to think we all still deck ourselves out in grunge flannel, hug trees, eat tempeh and live in log cabins singing Kumbaya to the fertility goddesses. That is rains a lot out there. Oh, and that "you'se all don't have decent pizza and hoagies." Yes, heaven forbid one can't find gray meat, processed cheese product and sodium on a bun. At least we don't have this shade of shit summer weather.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Jailbird
Warden, release me from these four walls early for (pretty) good behavior. I’ve done my time fair and square but I’m ready and able to move on to a world outside this one. An ongoing heat wave has put temperatures above 90 for weeks on end. Foreseen changes at work have flushed my job satisfaction down the dank metal toilet. Standard issue rose-colored glasses removed, this city prison’s good is eclipsed by its persistent and prominent bad and ugly.
I’ve done my best to wait out my 30-month sentence. I’ve played nice with my cellmates. I’ve lived within these confines, accepted situations beyond my control. I’ve eaten the unfamiliar food, drank the tepid water, looked beyond the dirt and grime to squint at the blue skies above. I’ve zipped my lip against the powers that be and rules I don’t abide. I’ve been rehabilitated to not believe this city a complete wasteland and I’ll do my best to defend its principles against critics outside these walls.
But it’s time now to rid me once and for all of this steamy, sweaty and overcrowded concrete jail. Hand me my papers, roll shut the barbed wire fence, and see me down the street, until I'm just a speck on the horizon, kicking up your dust toward the Pacific sunset.
Load the car and write the note.
Grab your bag and grab your coat.
Tell the ones that need to know.
We are headednorth west.
One foot in and one foot back.
But it don’t pay to live like that.
So I cut the ties and I jumped the track.
For never to return.
--“I and Love and You,” The Avett Brothers
I’ve done my best to wait out my 30-month sentence. I’ve played nice with my cellmates. I’ve lived within these confines, accepted situations beyond my control. I’ve eaten the unfamiliar food, drank the tepid water, looked beyond the dirt and grime to squint at the blue skies above. I’ve zipped my lip against the powers that be and rules I don’t abide. I’ve been rehabilitated to not believe this city a complete wasteland and I’ll do my best to defend its principles against critics outside these walls.
But it’s time now to rid me once and for all of this steamy, sweaty and overcrowded concrete jail. Hand me my papers, roll shut the barbed wire fence, and see me down the street, until I'm just a speck on the horizon, kicking up your dust toward the Pacific sunset.
Load the car and write the note.
Grab your bag and grab your coat.
Tell the ones that need to know.
We are headed
One foot in and one foot back.
But it don’t pay to live like that.
So I cut the ties and I jumped the track.
For never to return.
--“I and Love and You,” The Avett Brothers
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Domestique
Despite the fact that here in Philadelphia we are on our fifth heat wave of the season and the calendar says summer began June 21, for me, the true start of summer began yesterday. This year, July 3 marks the start of the 97th Tour de France. For many, this cycling race is the only one they pay attention to, but not in this house. Here, cycling is followed all year long, each and every day. The off season team moves and rumors, the Tour of Qatar, the Tour Down Under and the Tour of California, giving way to the Spring Classics sprinkled throughout Europe, the Giro, all these races leading up to the twenty stages of The Tour, the climax of the season, this year starting off the excitement in Rotterdam before heading south to France. From now until the laps on the Champs Élysées, our lives will be non-stop cycling -- online, on television, in magazines and in conversation, cycling, cycling, cycling.
Cycling is my husband's die hard hobby but I'm a fan in my own way, doing my best to keep up with the excitement of the race leaders, teams, sprints, mountains, road rash, flat tires, trash talking and, unfortunately but invariably, doping allegations. Perhaps best of all, I love the views the Tour provides of back roads of France, as the peleton snakes between villages, flanked with towering plane trees and thousands of fans.
Vive le Tour!
Cycling is my husband's die hard hobby but I'm a fan in my own way, doing my best to keep up with the excitement of the race leaders, teams, sprints, mountains, road rash, flat tires, trash talking and, unfortunately but invariably, doping allegations. Perhaps best of all, I love the views the Tour provides of back roads of France, as the peleton snakes between villages, flanked with towering plane trees and thousands of fans.
Vive le Tour!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Bucket List
A few months back, with our time in Philadelphia finite, Gus and I made a "Bucket List" of sorts. A list of stuff we want to do, food we want to eat, places we want to go (for the first time or to revisit), before we leave the east coast and its unique offerings behind.
One entry on the list was to revisit New York City, stay overnight and dine at a spectacular restaurant. A couple we're close with was also interested so the four of us put our heads together and made plans for a fantastic weekend, which has finally arrived and begins tomorrow!
A well-timed coupon lets us stay at the recently opened Hotel Eventi in Chelsea for only $199 a night, an all but unheard of price for nice digs the Big Apple; the Mega Bus will have us arriving into Midtown in style. But the real highlight of the trip will be tomorrow evening, when we taxi to dinner reservations at Daniel for 6:30 PM. Yes, Daniel, the restaurant of French chef Daniel Boulud that was recently awarded three coveted Michelin stars and is ranked as one of the top ten restaurants in the world. It's a splurge, yes, but we've saved our pennies and, c'mon, you only live once...and you definitely only live in Philadelphia once! This is not likely to be an opportunity that will pass this way again, what with us living down the street from New York and our dear friends close by to share in the extravaganza.
And so suits pressed, jewelry packed, reservations printed and menus sufficiently drooled over, we are all madly texting one another like Twihard tweens with giddy countdowns to the grand event. Tall tales of gastronomic gluttony to surely follow...
One entry on the list was to revisit New York City, stay overnight and dine at a spectacular restaurant. A couple we're close with was also interested so the four of us put our heads together and made plans for a fantastic weekend, which has finally arrived and begins tomorrow!
A well-timed coupon lets us stay at the recently opened Hotel Eventi in Chelsea for only $199 a night, an all but unheard of price for nice digs the Big Apple; the Mega Bus will have us arriving into Midtown in style. But the real highlight of the trip will be tomorrow evening, when we taxi to dinner reservations at Daniel for 6:30 PM. Yes, Daniel, the restaurant of French chef Daniel Boulud that was recently awarded three coveted Michelin stars and is ranked as one of the top ten restaurants in the world. It's a splurge, yes, but we've saved our pennies and, c'mon, you only live once...and you definitely only live in Philadelphia once! This is not likely to be an opportunity that will pass this way again, what with us living down the street from New York and our dear friends close by to share in the extravaganza.
And so suits pressed, jewelry packed, reservations printed and menus sufficiently drooled over, we are all madly texting one another like Twihard tweens with giddy countdowns to the grand event. Tall tales of gastronomic gluttony to surely follow...
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Oppressive Regime
Today the heat is stifling, gobbling up every molecule of air with its slobbery lips and hot breath. What's left surrounds you tightly like a big hug from a bear wrapped in a wet wool blanket, quickening your heart and slowing your pace, leaving your hands sticky and your feet bloated. The humid temps of August without the promise of September. My energy use guilt creeps up with the mercury as the air conditioner remains on a continuous cycle of cooling. Relief may be just a cloud away -- as I pulled the laundry off the line, towels scratchy against my legs, thunder rolled across the horizon and a few drops of rain darkened the bedsheets.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Holy Lunch Hour!
Trapped beneath the fluorescent lighting and feeling a desperate need for a little spiritual uplifting, I came to the idea of googling mid-day church services in University City. As rare of late luck would have it, a Lutheran church offered Eucharist starting in fifteen minutes. I made the quick two over, four up walk to their location, silently walking into the narthex where a small number of chairs had been arranged in a semi-circle. I chose one and settled in, holding the new red hymnal on my lap.
After quieting a few familiar and friendly but noisy inebriated folks outside, the young pastor began the service. It was just him, three older men, and me. Scripture was read and prayers recited as we sat around a cross-shaped pool. The doors to the outside were open, bringing in a strong, rustling breeze along with busy street noise. With it, the wind carried the sound of our three part a capella harmony, clear and in tune albeit bottom heavy on two familiar tunes. Many passers-by glanced in curiously at the hearty hymn sounds of our motley group, but the embarrassment of my youth at participating openly in something like this was long, long gone.
Peace given and brochure taken, I rejoined the masses on an increasingly hot and crowded city sidewalk and right-angled my way back to the windowless abyss of nine to five.
After quieting a few familiar and friendly but noisy inebriated folks outside, the young pastor began the service. It was just him, three older men, and me. Scripture was read and prayers recited as we sat around a cross-shaped pool. The doors to the outside were open, bringing in a strong, rustling breeze along with busy street noise. With it, the wind carried the sound of our three part a capella harmony, clear and in tune albeit bottom heavy on two familiar tunes. Many passers-by glanced in curiously at the hearty hymn sounds of our motley group, but the embarrassment of my youth at participating openly in something like this was long, long gone.
Peace given and brochure taken, I rejoined the masses on an increasingly hot and crowded city sidewalk and right-angled my way back to the windowless abyss of nine to five.
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