I shouldn’t stay up too much later, as I have an early flight. I’m meeting up with my sister in DC for a few days, and then visiting a friend in Maryland. I have to get on the road for the airport before 4 a.m., which just doesn’t seem right. I’m still packing, which turns out to be a challenge, because I apparently need to pack for multiple seasons. It looks like there will be some nice weather a couple of days, but when I head home Monday morning, there may be freezing temperatures.
Speaking of not being sure how to dress for the season, I noticed this small tree displaying some wardrobe confusion yesterday. Note the spring-like blossoms. And the fall foliage. On the same tree. (See the little springy rosy blossom buds peeking out from behind the autumnal yellow leaf?) I feel you, little tree.
I’ll hopefully still remember to post while I’m away. I have a lot of work to get done, too.
I’m pretty sure I’ve had nightmares about missing an election. Happily, there were no impediments to me casting my vote today. It’s been a hard day to focus on work, feeling like the future is in the balance. In spite of that, I was fairly productive.
I woke up extra early today, hoping to catch a glimpse of the lunar eclipse. I set the alarm for 5, and somehow woke up before the alarm. I bundled up and went outside in the dark to look for the moon. After some wandering the yard and up towards the street, I came to the conclusion that the moon was too low on the horizon for me to see from our heavily wooded neighborhood. I was not motivated to go out driving by myself to seek out higher ground. Eventually, the sky lightened and turned to pink with the sunrise, and I went in to drink my morning tea and do the crossword puzzle.
It’s been a long, long day. I know that most of the country’s election results won’t be in for quite a few hours (if not days) yet. However, I’ve already seen the fantastic news that Maura Healey has been declared governor of Massachusetts. So at least there is some good news to hold on to.
My grandmother was a remarkable woman, and her home was full of remarkable things that she’d accumulated during her many trips visiting far off lands. In my mind’s eye, I can still see many of the items laid out with care in her house: on the mantle, the bookshelves, and various end tables. One fascinating and beautiful object was a handheld Tibetan prayer wheel. It had a cylinder of metal worked with intricate patterns, which was mounted on a wooden handle such that the cylinder could spin. It had a little chain with a bead attached to the cylinder, so that when you spun the cylinder, it would make the little beaded chain click and clack. My grandmother explained that there were prayers written inside the cylinder, and that when you spun the wheel, these prayers were released into the universe, over and over again. I would think about this, as I spun the wheel, and listened to the clickety clack of the bead. I would imagine the prayers flying out from the wheel and out into the world.
I thought of this object, as I wrote postcard after postcard in the last few months. Writing the cards was meditative and soothing to me, channeling my energy into the messages. I felt a little like writing the messages was a bit of a prayer released into the universe. Little wishes that our democracy will stay strong, and that our future will be one of hope. I would repeat these mantras to myself, as my pens scratched out messages on card after card. I sent these messages off into the universe (as well as off into the US postal service).
Tonight, on the eve of another momentous US election, there isn’t much more work I can do. So I will continue to send off more wishes that our democracy will hold strong, and that people will show up across the country to make their voices heard.
Shortly after I posted last night (hitting the publish button at 11:59 p.m. or so), I headed to get ready for bed. I started by removing the necklace that I had chosen to wear. As I looked down at the pendant in my hand, the stone evoked the image of the slice of blood orange I had just shared in my post minutes earlier.
It was the first time I’d worn it, after getting it for myself last year. It had caught my eye at a local artisan market. Its sunny yellow called to me on a gray rainy day. (Probably also not a coincidence that sunniness attracted me, since I was deeply entrenched in promoting a local clean energy campaign that featured a lot of images of the sun.) I was entranced by the stone, with it’s elaborate repeating pattern looking like tiny flowers or slices of candied lemon. The vendor, who was the artisan who had designed and done the silverwork for the pendant, identified the stone as fossilized coral. I had never come across this before, and I was smitten. It was only a couple of weeks before my fiftieth birthday, so I indulged.
I didn’t do a good job of keeping track of the artist’s name. (Though looking at my Venmo record, I think I found her name. I can’t find a website for her, though.)
Above are more photos of it, with different colored backgrounds. (Left is on top of the marigold-colored velour top I wore it with. At right it’s on top of one of my new notebooks.) I realized that I probably need to put more effort into finding good light for taking photos of jewelry.
On a completely different note, I am stressed about the upcoming midterm elections. I have not been as closely involved with any campaigns this season. I had imagined that I would be doing some sort of campaign work, such as holding signs or canvassing. But in the end, I haven’t. I came close a few times, but ultimately I decided that I need to conserve my energy. I have a lot on my plate now, with multiple research projects, as well as substantially increased responsibilities in my town government. I’m also still recovering from Covid, and even after more than a month of testing negative, I’m not yet back to 100% and still have a cough when I get tired. I feel like I am making excuses, but I also know that my energy is finite. (It’s a hard truth for me to accept.)
Here I am rushing to post before midnight once again. It’s not that I forgot so much as I have had a busy day.
I just got home from helping a friend to celebrate a big moment in her life. (Namely, her divorce.) She served blood orange sangrias, with slices of blood orange for a garnish. The slice above looked like stained glass to me.
One of the reasons I ran out of time to write today was that I was inspired to make my friend a gift. A number of years ago (where that number is almost 20) I made some gifts for friends writing out messages in morse code using beads. I had big plans to make many more such pieces of jewelry, and stockpiled various tube and oblong beads (needed for the dashes). I spent an inordinate amount of time agonizing about which color scheme to use, and digging through my supplies. And changing my mind several times. And then it turns out I’m out of practice with bending the wire to make the chain, so the whole process took far more time than I expected.
I also neglected to get a decent photo of the finished project. (Namely, a necklace spelling my friend’s name in morse code.) Here are the beads I used: rainbow fluorite tubes (for the dashes), and two sizes of roundish glass beads for the dots and the letter spacers. (See also the finished product in poor lighting, and on an appetizer plate at my friend’s house.)
I sometimes have a problem with moderation. I’ve been writing a lot of postcards to voters again recently, and enjoy using a variety of pens and colors of ink. I do use a lot of blue, and I managed to actually use up several of my blue pens. I decided to stop by the office supply store and replenish my well of ink, as it were. I thought I’d get a few more blue gel pens. And so I did. But I maybe also got a bunch more gel pens in lots of different colors. I already had some of these in about a dozen colors, but they had a box of *thirty* different colors. I am looking forward to doodling with them.
Below are some of the 500+ postcards I wrote to voters this election season. I particularly had fun drawing the little peaches on the cards to Georgia. (Those peaches used 6 different colors of gel pen. Not that you asked.)
Here we are, more than half way through November, and this is my first post in close to a year. I realized about November 3rd that I’d missed my annual tradition of at least *trying* to blog every day in the month of November.
Life has been very busy and very full. I have a new job that, even though it’s technically part time, has me constantly rushing to catch up. (I’m teaching a course as an adjunct, and basically building the course as I go along. The opportunity only came up a few weeks before the start of the semester. Plus I’m commuting into Boston 3 days a week. And I still have a bunch of research group and community commitments. It’s been a lot.) So when I remembered that I’d missed my NaBloPoMo tradition, I didn’t spare too many wistful thoughts.
But then today is a special day for this blog: Happy 15th birthday little blog! I’ve missed you, and hope we can catch up soon.
It was just this morning that I recognized the significance of today’s date for my blog. And then a little bit later in the morning remembered the other significance of this date. This was the date I lost a dear friend, 14 years ago today. This blog will always be a little bit tangled up with my memories of her, and the grief that sometimes still catches me unawares.
Just this Friday, I found myself thinking of her, through a funny meandering path of thoughts and memories. We have developed a family tradition of having pizza on Friday nights, and I put together a special one to deal with my difficult dietary constraints, and with a bunch of vegetables. (Because I like vegetables.) Theo was helping me prep for the pizza, and was cutting an onion. And as Theo struggled with the burning and watery eyes of cutting onion, I found myself singing the Flight of the Conchords song, “I’m not crying.” (And then I found myself thinking of Elizabeth, who I believe was the one who introduced me to that band.)
“I’m not crying No, I’m not crying. And if I am crying It’s not because of you It’s because I’m thinking about a friend of mine who you don’t know who is dying. That’s right, dying. These aren’t tears of sadness because you’re leaving me. I’ve just been cutting onions. I’m making a lasagna. For one.“
So all of this is why, rather than getting my blog a cake (or reusing a photo of a cake), it felt more fitting to share some sliced onion.
This highly unusual year is finally coming to a close. And though there are parts of it I wish I could do differently, I’m not sorry to see the end of it.
2020: a confusing year.
I didn’t so much manage to keep posting regularly this month. I fell short of that goal, much like a lot of my other goals for the year. So, I suppose it’s a fitting end. I did manage to post every day in November, plus another 15 posts (16 if you count this one), so there’s that.
My 2020 posts were a little sparse.
I fell short on my reading goals. I planned to read at least 52 books. I finished 40. I barely read any physical books at all, and mostly listened to audio books. (I still count those.) The book group I was in sort of sputtered out after a few zoom meetings. I didn’t even try to follow the Read Harder Challenge list from Book Riot, after successfully completing it in 2019. I found I didn’t have the concentration to read books much of the year.
I walked the dog pretty much every day, and kept reasonably active, but I wouldn’t say I especially accomplished any fitness goals.
I accomplished a few professional goals, but fell short on some others.
I did a lot of volunteer work, but dropped the ball more than once.
I did a few creative projects, but never got off the ground on a few others.
I had one trip to California in February to see my mother, for which I am very grateful, but pretty much all subsequent travel plans were cancelled.
My family has stayed largely well, but we have had our grief, too. I have meant to write a post about a significant loss, but haven’t found the time or energy to do my feelings or the person justice.
I put a lot of time and energy into the US elections, and the results were mostly good, but we are still living in this weird reality where a bewilderingly sizable percentage of the population does not believe in the results. I feel like I still need to hold my breath until we are past the inauguration.
With two vaccines already being distributed in the US for the coronavirus, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I know a number of people, who all work in some healthcare profession, who have already gotten their first shots. But with the gross mismanagement at the federal level, only a tiny percentage of the population have started to get vaccinated. At current rates it will be many, many months before it becomes available to me or my family. The tunnel appears to be quite long. And cases are continuing to rise oh-so-alarmingly.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel, but it appears to be still quite a long, dark tunnel we’re in.
Today, we have broken with our tradition of taking the train into Boston to see the ice sculptures, eat at one of our favorite restaurants, and generally be tourists in the city. Instead, we’ll stay home, and stay warm and safe.
Seeing the ice sculptures in Boston: One of many traditions set aside this year.
In a year of big challenges and big stress, I have come out mostly okay. I feel like I was very busy all year, but didn’t get all that much done. The year took a lot of energy. In some ways, it was a huge accomplishment just to make it through, and have any products at all. My family has been mostly okay. We have jobs and a home. So I have much to be thankful for.
So now, I welcome the new year with some degree of hopefulness, but also with some wariness and weariness that come from the awareness that we are not yet out of the woods.
We did get to go for some walks in the woods this year.
Here is a more cheerful photo of woods, since I don’t like to end on such a melancholy note. I do actually really like the woods.
Wishing us all a safer, healthier, happier new year!
Yes, I did actually just say that out loud a minute ago. And then decided that that should be my post title.
Once again, it is late, and the day passed by without me having a grand plan for my daily post. The day was a fairly mellow one. I started the day waking up too early, and considering trying to do some work before the rest of the family got up. But I puttered on my phone, had my tea, and walked the dog and then decided to use a package of gluten-free pumpkin pancakes I’d gotten a few weeks ago. That’s not a very interesting story (flat as a pancake, as far as stories go), but the pancakes were pretty tasty. Also, at least one of them appeared to be happy.
Also, in the last little odd-shaped pancakes I get when scraping the last of the batter out of the bowl, I found this critter.
At first I thought, “hey, those look like rabbit ears.” And then I thought, “or like a duck bill.” And so it was that I stumbled across another naturally occuring instance of the rabbit-duck illusion. It does seem like I’m fairly often entertained by faces and other shapes I find around in unexpected places. (Though if I’m often finding them, are they really so unexpected?) Are you this way as well?
Tomorrow we are all back to the grind after a lovely long holiday weekend. Theo is back to his in-person school (he’s doing hybrid), and Phoebe has to do a sort of extended independent study for her school. John and I both have work. Plus I have to get back to the pile of volunteer/community commitments that I energetically offered to do before getting side-stracked.
Only one more day of my traditional November daily blogging commitment. I keep wishing that I were better about keeping up the blog during the rest of the year.
collecting tokens 