Pink of Perfection

After such a lovely weekend, Monday morning could have felt like a major bummer. But the truth is, I’m still feeling glowingly lucky to have the funnest, greatest friends, to have danced with them in a driveway in Iowa and celebrated love, to have gone midnight swimming, and to have slept in a giant California King-sized bed. “It’s really great to know people for a long time,” I said to Katie while we were dancing to Michael Jackson. “It’s the best,” she said.

And then I spent this morning looking at Meg’s blog, which always makes me feel really happy. And I drank my coffee. And thought about adventure, and which one we should take next. You know that feeling, when you just want to set out for somewhere new, hop in a car, or start from scratch somewhere new? How do you scratch that itch?

And I thought about these scones that I made last week, which were truly quick and studded with lusciously ripe raspberries.

All in all, not a bad way to start the week.

Continue reading “Fast Raspberry Scones” »

I can’t tell you how good it feels to be back here.

There are some vacations that see you crying on the plane when it’s time to come home, the ones that open up, as my friend said a couples of years ago, “a vortex of disappointment in your life.”

And then there are the ones from which you return eager to slip into your own bed, to flip through magazines to find new dinner possibilities, to settle into the couch that’s your own. Vacation begins to feel heavy (maybe it’s all the red meat and ice cream). And rather than feel pinned down by the prospect of settling back in to your daily routines, the day-in day-out of living as you do, you feel quite happy to return to them. The refrigerator vegetable drawer. The walk to the gym. The hiss of the coffee pot in the morning, and the quiet turning down of the house at night.

This is one of my favorite by-products of vacation: that we’re able to get that rare perspective on our lives, and to feel rested enough to want to reshape them in new ways. Vacation reminded me of how much I love fancy lunches, and how badly I need to reinstate them. Vacation introduced me to new flavors, and made me––for what I think is the first time in a long time––excited about cooking. Not the rote mechanics of getting dinner on the table, but the artistic fun of experimenting with recipes and embracing the unknown.

And perhaps most of all, vacation reminded me of a lost love. We were hosted with so much generosity and thought by Sebastian’s best friend. Greeted with gift bags and sparkling wine. Drawn maps. Served endless cuts of meat. Months ago, at my last dinner party, I walked into the kitchen and cursed everything. The guests. The meal. My freakin’ 900 degree kitchen. I had become the kind of host that, well, I hate. The one that’s lost sight of the joy and generosity of providing the occasion for loved ones to put on their party clothes, talk about their favorite books, drink too much and confess things they’ll regret in the morning. At the risk of embarrassing our host terribly, he does this all beautifully, all while still managing to cook the kind of meals that make the heart sigh and head spin.

In this way, vacation made me come back to my own life wanting to make it more vibrant. To not so blithely take for granted the people and things I’ve wanted my whole life to have and now, miraculously, do. And to open my doors again, to my home and even to this site, and remember the delight of inviting people in and having them stay awhile.

Everyone needs beauty as well as bread, places to play and pray, where nature heals and give strength to body and soul alike. ––John Muir

Yesterday I attended a Quaker meeting in a deep shaded grove. It was what some call a “popcorn meeting,” where, one after another, people spring from their seats to quote from poetry and conversations with therapists. And in the moments of quiet that came in between bursts, I listened to the forests sounds with my eyes closed or watched the way the sunlight came through the trees. One serious conclusion: I use the adjective “heavenly” far too colloquially.

There was a through-line to the talk: about the delicacy of feelings and the power of words to hurt or to heal. I had spent the previous week in my own feverish ways, annoyed, anxious, unable to concentrate. But there in the woods, I felt reclothed in my rightful mind. I remembered the importance of stepping out of the flurry of the day-to-day to stop and breathe. To sit in quiet. To experience fellowship. Why hadn’t I been going to yoga? Why hadn’t I taken the time to sit in the community garden? I knew both would reset my clock, but I just couldn’t find the time. I had stewing to do and worries to fret. Important stuff.

Simplicity is something I struggle with. My apartment tends toward clutter; with language, I often have trouble being plain. So much of what we say is for effect and response, to get a laugh or to seem smart. But someone is always on the receiving end of that talk, perhaps sadly so. I resolved there to think more carefully of how what I say affects others. Words, especially written ones, aren’t just play things. As Joan Didion says, “Writers are always selling somebody out.” Tread carefully.

Someone at meeting used the phrase “beauty is but a light switch away.” Morning googling has revealed this to be some kind of cruel pick-up line, but in the context of chirping woodland birds and senior citizens in chinos, I had interpreted it so differently: We only have to flip the switch to be bathed in beauty. Just as, we only have to shift our perspective to feel peaceful and accepting again. Sometimes that means sitting quietly in the woods or floating in a lake or having a glass of lemonade with someone you love. What I had forgotten is how utterly within my power it is to bring those feelings about in my daily life, and I know just how to do it. Sometimes we need only a gentle reminder of what we already know.

To be completely honest, summer isn’t my favorite season. In fact, for me, at least, summer needs more of a public relations campaign than winter. I wilt in the heat and have been known to get a bit grumpy when I’m hot. But I do love to cool down with a cold glass of wine in the shade and keep things airy in cotton poplin sundress. So, in order to celebrate what the season does have to offer, here’s a list of many of the season’s charms:

1. lemonade stands
2. whirring vintage fans
3. sundresses
4. fireflies
5. wildflowers by the highway
6. s’mores
7. easy grilled dinners
8. summer thunderstorms
9. the long, lingering daylight hours
10. fireworks
11. marching bands in parades
12. linen
13. the return of Mad Men
14. cold watermelon
15. napping in a hammock
16. sunglasses as headbands
17. the smell of sunscreen on kids
18. farmer’s markets at their most glorious
19. a chelada on a hot day
20. picnics
21. daytrips to the beach (and the reminder of it with sand everywhere)
22. iced tea in mason jars
23. espadrilles
24. bocce
25. swimming
26. halter top strings dangling down your back
27. outdoor movies
28. long hikes in the cool, quiet woods
29. sandcastles
30. wavy, sexy beach hair
31. saltwater taffy
32. camping
33. drippy ice cream cones
34. yoga outside
35. easy entertaining on your porch or in your backyard
36. lying on a floating wooden platform in the middle of a lake
37. croquet with a pimm’s cup
38. kids playing in sprinklers and open fire hydrants
39. street fairs
40. horseshoes
41. a fresh pedicure tucked into fancy sandals
42. Lillet on the rocks with a slice of orange
43. so-golden-you’d-never-know fake tans
44. visiting national parks
45. outdoor concerts
46. sno-cones
47. big, floppy hats
48. canoeing
49. sheer, pretty make-up
50. vacation, staycation, or just giving yourself a quick relaxation break
51. iced coffee
52. the sounds of the ice cream truck
53. raffia, jute, and straw anything
54. braids
55. eating outside
56. sleeping in tents (in the backyard or the wilderness)
57. crisp, cool cotton sheets, dresses, and shirts
58. the seasonal return of rosé
59. going to a baseball game
60. fresh basil and mint growing on your windowsill
61. homemade posicles
62. sunny days = sunnier moods
63. blowing bubbles
64. getting lost in a juicy novel for an afternoon
65. water balloons
66. car wash fundraisers
67. rooftop parties
68. road trips (and kitschy roadside attractions)
69. corn dogs
70. frisbee
71. the ripest, most luscious tomatoes
72. collecting seashells
73. mini golf
74. lobster rolls
75. state fairs (and food on sticks)
76. flea markets and antique fairs
77. staying inside when you’ve had too much sun, blasting the a/c, and watching movies
78. retro bathing beauty swimsuits
79. country church suppers
80. pretending to be Amèlie on Bastille Day
81. driving with the top down
82. crickets
83. the sound of lawn mowers
84. open windows
85. kids in sunglasses
86. sand between your toes
87. sitting in the shade on a hot day
88. the sound of ocean waves
89. blackberries
90. a cool breeze on a hot day
91. flip flops
92. the smoky smell of people barbecuing in the evenings
93. relaxed attitudes
94. surfing
95. spotting hot air balloons
96. skinny dipping
97. dogs with their heads out car windows, tongues wagging
98. bicycles built for two
99. snorkeling
100. neighborhood block parties
101. the weightlessness of floating with the sun on your face

What did I miss?

image via LIFE

Can you imagine, for a moment, the way the light through the window was dancing its patchy pattern across the table this morning, and across these cherries? It scatters still, across my cup of coffee and keyboard; it seems a fitting thing to bring up for what I’m about to try to say.

Which is: There are days when you burst into your own life. Your sense of self fills every bit of your body: the round tips of your fingers, your elbows, your earlobes. Suddenly, you are fully present in your form and in your life. You are dashing across the street like Mary Tyler Moore, twirling in your skirt, every synapse open and firing.

I am waiting, knowing this moment will end. It began Friday night with the surprise of love and support at the premiere of Colin Hearts Kay (which won Audience Choice for Best Feature!). And then it slid into Saturday when I was wearing a cute outfit and feeling quite lovely, sitting alone at the bar of one of my favorite restaurants with a glass of cold white wine, reading As They Were.

These are some of the things I love: friends, wrap skirts, chilly wine on hot days, M.F.K. Fisher. But for whatever reason, sometimes we turn to the things we love and they fail to stir in us that expected delight, the longed-for pleasure. Instead it is just a glass of Albariño, just a curled paperback.

But every once in awhile we find our lives transformed by joy for an afternoon or a weekend. These are days when we are so fully alive in our bodies, we feel like the stars of our story. Should it be any other way? But, inevitably, there are those other days. The necessary downturns, the going-through-the-motions, the sleepwalking in our own lives. And that’s fine too, if not because melancholy can serve a purpose, then because they make the slow, rapturous intake of pleasure even more satisfying. Too bad there’s not a valve we can switch on and off; but then, I suppose, that would be all too predictable.

I have been on my own personal cloud 9 since Friday at about 8:30pm. And it’s not because of any good news or career triumphs of my mate. It’s because, as someone close to me said, of a transformation. It’s sounds a little heavy or sci-fi, I know, but isn’t that a lovely word? It’s something humming in me, a gear that’s clicked into sunny, quiet place of wholeness. A group of girlfriends brought it on, then more friends, more family, a sewing project free of frustration, an iced latte or two. And now, after a slow wander through the bookstore and a dash to the farmer’s market, these cherries will sustain it. If only for a few moments more.

I am getting the distinct feeling that maybe y’all are a little burnt out on recipes. No? Am I being oversensitive? Are you just outside playing in the sunshine? Here’s hoping.

But in any case, I thought it was time for a little shake-up. Remember when we were all going on and on about morning pages last month? Well, when I found out that Julia Cameron, author of The Artist’s Way, was teaching a “Creativity Boot Camp” class at the Open Center, I figured it was a pretty good way to spend four Wednesday evenings.

Julia Cameron is a real trip, in the best way possible. She’s got these loose, luxurious blonde curls, wears deep red lipstick, and can somehow convince a room full of adults to sing songs with lyrics like, “your green heart is filled with apples!” In a word, she’s amazing.

In our first class, she did an exercise with us that I loved so much, I had to share it with you guys. So if you’re in for some creative, big-dreaming Friday fun, grab a piece of paper (or chime in in the comments) and let your imagination loose. Don’t spend too much time thinking about each list; just be loose and go with your gut.

1. Write ten things you love.
2. Write five things you would do if you knew you wouldn’t fail.
3. Write five alternative lives you would like to live other than your own.
4. Write four tiny things you can do in the life you have to bring you closer to those imagined lives.

Now, imagine an older, wiser version of yourself who has some advice to share.

1. What do you need to know?
2. What do you need to embrace?
3. What do you need to do?
4. What do you need to grieve?
5. What do you need to celebrate?

Happy weekend to you lovelies! As always, thanks for dropping in here, reading, and adding your delightful and insightful two cents.

Image via Valeriana Solaris

image via Colin Gregory Palmer

tasting :: deep dark and delicious americano. you are my life blood.

hearing :: stereomood. you can create playlists based on however you’re feeling.

smelling :: the citrusy scent of a clean house

seeing :: the kind of amazing DIY life-coaching site, Coaching Sanctuary

feeling :: ready for a summer road trip. woo-hoo!

What are your senses this Friday?

Happy weekend to all of you lovelies, and thanks once again for being the dearest blog readers around.

Women Food and God

Lavender bubble bath

Goldie Hawn’s hair in Foul Play

fava beans

my little brother’s college graduation

peonies

morning pages (how cool is anne sexton in this pic?)

my new love of barley