14 April 2011
13 April 2011
#29
We made it to the National Zoo last week. #29 is done.
Several events pushed this activity to the top of the list:
1. the weather has been perfect
2. we wanted to go before it was crawling with kids on spring break
3. and oh yes, there was the possibility that the zoo would have been closed indefinitely had the senate/congress/president not passed the budget
I can be a bit cynical about zoos, but at heart, I love them. I cherish the opportunity to see a panda bear sitting back on its haunches eating bamboo, the Walter-Matthau-like elephants and their knobbiness, the roar of lions (they roared while we were there!), the disconcerting proportions of silverback gorillas, and so much more.
Books are great, pictures of animals are helpful, but seeing an animal move, eat, breathe is revealing.
Several events pushed this activity to the top of the list:
1. the weather has been perfect
2. we wanted to go before it was crawling with kids on spring break
3. and oh yes, there was the possibility that the zoo would have been closed indefinitely had the senate/congress/president not passed the budget
I can be a bit cynical about zoos, but at heart, I love them. I cherish the opportunity to see a panda bear sitting back on its haunches eating bamboo, the Walter-Matthau-like elephants and their knobbiness, the roar of lions (they roared while we were there!), the disconcerting proportions of silverback gorillas, and so much more.
Books are great, pictures of animals are helpful, but seeing an animal move, eat, breathe is revealing.
12 April 2011
blueberry-rhubarb muffins
Friends, I've been in the kitchen.
I decided to make blueberry muffins last week and while rummaging in the freezer for the berries, I had to move a bag of frozen rhubarb. Eureka!
So, I made blueberry-rhubarb muffins instead and The Hubby is very happy about this development. He calls these the best muffins ever. And I am totally in love with rhubarb again. A lovely vegetable that I've been neglecting for years. Guess I need to make up for lost time: I've been doubling this batch and sharing with the neighbors.
This recipe is inspired by one I found in an old Williams-Sonoma cookbook.
Ingredients:
2 c. whole wheat flour
2/3 c. turbinado sugar
2 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 c. milk
1/2 c. melted butter
2 eggs
2 c. frozen blueberries
1 c. frozen rhubarb
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Butter standard muffin tins. (Be generous with the butter, especially when it comes to the creases, or you'll regret it when it's time to remove the baked muffins.)
In a medium bowl, stir and toss together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. Set aside. In another medium bowl, whisk together the milk, butter and eggs until smooth. Add the combined dry ingredients and stir just until blended. Add the blueberries and rhubarb and stir just until evenly incorporated.
Spoon into the prepared muffin tins, filling each cup about 3/4 full. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center of a muffin comes out clean, 15-20 minutes.* Let cool in the tins for 5 minutes, then remove.
Makes about 16 standard muffins.
*A few years back I decided to cave and buy an oven thermometer, at the recommendation of some cookbook author. And it has made such a difference in my baking and cooking experiences. Oven temperatures - no matter their age - are surprisingly temperamental. My oven in Arizona is 15 degrees off the mark. My oven in Virginia is 50 degrees (!!!) off the mark. I can only imagine the disasters I'd be creating (and ruining) if I couldn't tell the true temperature of my oven. Go buy an oven thermometer: it's worth the money.
I decided to make blueberry muffins last week and while rummaging in the freezer for the berries, I had to move a bag of frozen rhubarb. Eureka!
So, I made blueberry-rhubarb muffins instead and The Hubby is very happy about this development. He calls these the best muffins ever. And I am totally in love with rhubarb again. A lovely vegetable that I've been neglecting for years. Guess I need to make up for lost time: I've been doubling this batch and sharing with the neighbors.
This recipe is inspired by one I found in an old Williams-Sonoma cookbook.
Ingredients:
2 c. whole wheat flour
2/3 c. turbinado sugar
2 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 c. milk
1/2 c. melted butter
2 eggs
2 c. frozen blueberries
1 c. frozen rhubarb
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Butter standard muffin tins. (Be generous with the butter, especially when it comes to the creases, or you'll regret it when it's time to remove the baked muffins.)
In a medium bowl, stir and toss together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. Set aside. In another medium bowl, whisk together the milk, butter and eggs until smooth. Add the combined dry ingredients and stir just until blended. Add the blueberries and rhubarb and stir just until evenly incorporated.
Spoon into the prepared muffin tins, filling each cup about 3/4 full. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center of a muffin comes out clean, 15-20 minutes.* Let cool in the tins for 5 minutes, then remove.
Makes about 16 standard muffins.
*A few years back I decided to cave and buy an oven thermometer, at the recommendation of some cookbook author. And it has made such a difference in my baking and cooking experiences. Oven temperatures - no matter their age - are surprisingly temperamental. My oven in Arizona is 15 degrees off the mark. My oven in Virginia is 50 degrees (!!!) off the mark. I can only imagine the disasters I'd be creating (and ruining) if I couldn't tell the true temperature of my oven. Go buy an oven thermometer: it's worth the money.
11 April 2011
library love
I just stumbled over this great story at NPR and wanted to share. The Library Card As A Pop-Culture Fiend's Ticket to Geek Paradise. Hope you enjoy it.
Also, Happy National Library Week!
We are going to bring our favorite librarian a bouquet of flowers, check out a wagon full of books and rejoin the Friends of the Library Association.
How are you going to celebrate?
Also, Happy National Library Week!
We are going to bring our favorite librarian a bouquet of flowers, check out a wagon full of books and rejoin the Friends of the Library Association.
How are you going to celebrate?
eggs & hydrangeas & ivy
One of The Hubby's friends raises chickens and geese on his acreage and generously shares them with all who are interested.
We provide all the compost we can along with $2 and, in return, we receive a dozen eggs. Or in this case, the equivalent of a dozen eggs. That huge egg is a goose egg. I'd count that as two eggs, wouldn't you? Each week we receive a different offering. My favorite are the blue ones, which are sadly absent from this photo.
In related news: after doing an intense backyard flower bed scour, I discovered that we have (according to a knowledgeable neighbor) a soon-to-be-blue hydrangea living by the back gate. Hydrangeas need a bit of an acidic boost to turn blue, so we are saving eggshells and coffee grounds to add to its soil.
There is something pleasing and cyclical when I realize that my blue eggshells may help "blue" my hydrangea.
Also, I am covered head to toe in poison ivy blisters as a result of my overly ambitious gardening activities. I have been to Urgent Care twice and am doped up on steroids and pain medications. I look like a leper.
I miss the (poison-ivy-free) desert.
10 April 2011
cancelled
Because of the budget wrangling and general madness that has descended upon Washington D.C., my eagerly awaited Smithsonian-sponsored photography workshop (that was scheduled for April 10) has been cancelled.
All is well, though. Just signing up for the class gave me the incentive to read my entire camera manual. And just yesterday I reserved a stack of photography books from the library so I can dig in, regardless of bipartisan politics.
All is well, though. Just signing up for the class gave me the incentive to read my entire camera manual. And just yesterday I reserved a stack of photography books from the library so I can dig in, regardless of bipartisan politics.
08 April 2011
5 more people I'd like to meet
1. Beatrix Potter
2. Amelia Earhart
3. Keri Smith
4. Nikki McClure
5. Harper Lee
How about you? Whom would you most like to meet?
2. Amelia Earhart
3. Keri Smith
4. Nikki McClure
5. Harper Lee
How about you? Whom would you most like to meet?
06 April 2011
by maya angelou
"Every human being has paid the earth to grow up. Most people don't grow up. It's too damn difficult. What happens is most people get older. That's the truth of it. They honor their credit cards, they find parking spaces, they marry, they have the nerve to have children, but they don't grow up. Not really. They get older. But to grow up costs the earth. It means you take responsibility for the time you take up, for the space you occupy. It's serious business. And you find what it costs us to love and to lose, to dare and to fail. And maybe even more, to succeed. What it costs, in truth. Not superficial costs - anybody can have that - I mean in truth."
04 April 2011
#24
It surprises me how happy I get each time I accomplish something on my List.
No joke, it makes me glow with happiness. There have been moments when I looked at my List and wondered what I was thinking to put together something so ambitious. (And when I say "ambitious" I am, of course, referring to my little world. I know that I am not even close to winning a Nobel Prize or playing in the Final Four or doing anything truly, globally ambitious.)
The reality is, the truth is, I LOVE lists. They are my great motivator.
Anyway, over the weekend I got to cross another one off the List. I bought that University of Iowa alumni license plate frame, installed it and then washed my car by hand.
Good.
No joke, it makes me glow with happiness. There have been moments when I looked at my List and wondered what I was thinking to put together something so ambitious. (And when I say "ambitious" I am, of course, referring to my little world. I know that I am not even close to winning a Nobel Prize or playing in the Final Four or doing anything truly, globally ambitious.)
The reality is, the truth is, I LOVE lists. They are my great motivator.
Anyway, over the weekend I got to cross another one off the List. I bought that University of Iowa alumni license plate frame, installed it and then washed my car by hand.
Good.
29 March 2011
blossom bliss
 |
| amidst a grove of cherry trees |
 |
| jefferson memorial across the tidal basin |
 |
| no crowds! |
The trees were lovely. Beyond magical.
As I strolled amidst the cherry boughs, it made me happy to think about the throngs of people - in the midst of our technologically overloaded culture - who still make the time, set the intention, to go and enjoy a bunch of trees.
Happy.
25 March 2011
24 March 2011
#20
Finally.
Finally.
Finally.
Should I say it again? No? OK.
Well, I can finally cross #20 off The List. It doesn't seem like such a remarkable accomplishment, reading a camera manual, I know. But, it is one of those things that has been on my to-do list for 4 years. 4 YEARS. And today I finally finished reading that manual and crossed that beast off my List.
The relief is sweet.
Finally.
Finally.
Should I say it again? No? OK.
Well, I can finally cross #20 off The List. It doesn't seem like such a remarkable accomplishment, reading a camera manual, I know. But, it is one of those things that has been on my to-do list for 4 years. 4 YEARS. And today I finally finished reading that manual and crossed that beast off my List.
The relief is sweet.
22 March 2011
beauty matters
I was just reading as article in the Boston Globe that discusses Cornell professor Brian Wansinks' work in trying to improve school food. In part it reads:
"But it turns out that students are susceptible to the same marketing strategies that grocery stores have been using for years. Several experiments have shown that children will be more likely to eat items if they see them early in the lunch line and find them attractive and convenient to pick up. Putting fruit in a good-looking bowl works. So does putting a salad bar in a prominent place. Calling your carrots “X-ray vision carrots” can double sales."
I am struck by the idea that putting fruit in good-looking bowls increases a students' chances of actually selecting that fruit and then eating it. The irony is delicious.
As we cut, cut, cut school budgets across the the country, art and music are usually the first to go. But this simple example shows that these "frivolous" concepts of beauty really do matter. They aren't just a nice little add-on, a bonus.
If an apple doesn't look appealing, a child won't take it, won't eat it. Does it get any more fundamental than that?
Read more about this subject here.
"But it turns out that students are susceptible to the same marketing strategies that grocery stores have been using for years. Several experiments have shown that children will be more likely to eat items if they see them early in the lunch line and find them attractive and convenient to pick up. Putting fruit in a good-looking bowl works. So does putting a salad bar in a prominent place. Calling your carrots “X-ray vision carrots” can double sales."
I am struck by the idea that putting fruit in good-looking bowls increases a students' chances of actually selecting that fruit and then eating it. The irony is delicious.
As we cut, cut, cut school budgets across the the country, art and music are usually the first to go. But this simple example shows that these "frivolous" concepts of beauty really do matter. They aren't just a nice little add-on, a bonus.
If an apple doesn't look appealing, a child won't take it, won't eat it. Does it get any more fundamental than that?
Read more about this subject here.
17 March 2011
love after love by derek walcott
The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
15 March 2011
there may be some nudity
Since I started my drawing class, I've been all about drawing small shelters: airstreams, tipis, little cabins, tents. It's what I've been attracted to lately. And this practice of drawing shelters has been very satisfying.
Then, I missed last week's class because I was so sick. I'm better now: I'm functioning at about 80%. I can get through the day, keep up with the basic tasks, but I am regularly blowing my nose into my hanky and a certain sharpness is definitely missing.
Anyway, I went to this week's class totally unaware of what was in store. We started with a 5-minute demonstration about figure drawing and then because our model was late the class members took turns "modeling" and generally just being really goofy while the others were busy catching that person's body gesture.
I was having a lovely time, so lovely that my instructor made a comment to me that she could tell I was really enjoying myself. I did not see this emotion coming and frankly I was so enthralled with drawing that I was too close to my own experience to be able to say, "I love this! I am having so much fun!" But, I was.
And then our model arrived. And somewhere between me blowing my nose and getting a new piece of paper ready and finding a new chunk of charcoal, a naked (oops, I mean nude) woman was all of a sudden sitting about 10 feet away from me.
For some reason I hadn't made the connection between model and nude. And there were about three minutes of my brain repeating, "that woman is naked, that woman is naked, that woman is naked."
And then we started drawing and I forgot that she was nude. She was just what I was drawing. And I tell you, it was a lovely experience: to see a body without judging, to see a body as a thing to render. I was a little disturbed at how quickly I objectified her: she was an object that I was drawing. But, objectifying seems so negative and harsh and judgmental. I did not feel that way toward this woman. I guess I'm at a loss for words.
I was enamored, awed and wowed by her total body confidence. To stand, sit, twist while nude in front of a room full of people is courageous in this culture of "you are never thin enough." And this woman was not an anorexic twit. She was round, full-bodied and lovely.
And at this moment I am feeling so grateful for my own body, with all its flaws and shortcomings, puckers and rolls. I am feeling less judgment and more kindness toward myself and others. Our bodies our beautiful, whatever their shape, whatever their size. Amen.
Then, I missed last week's class because I was so sick. I'm better now: I'm functioning at about 80%. I can get through the day, keep up with the basic tasks, but I am regularly blowing my nose into my hanky and a certain sharpness is definitely missing.
Anyway, I went to this week's class totally unaware of what was in store. We started with a 5-minute demonstration about figure drawing and then because our model was late the class members took turns "modeling" and generally just being really goofy while the others were busy catching that person's body gesture.
I was having a lovely time, so lovely that my instructor made a comment to me that she could tell I was really enjoying myself. I did not see this emotion coming and frankly I was so enthralled with drawing that I was too close to my own experience to be able to say, "I love this! I am having so much fun!" But, I was.
And then our model arrived. And somewhere between me blowing my nose and getting a new piece of paper ready and finding a new chunk of charcoal, a naked (oops, I mean nude) woman was all of a sudden sitting about 10 feet away from me.
For some reason I hadn't made the connection between model and nude. And there were about three minutes of my brain repeating, "that woman is naked, that woman is naked, that woman is naked."
And then we started drawing and I forgot that she was nude. She was just what I was drawing. And I tell you, it was a lovely experience: to see a body without judging, to see a body as a thing to render. I was a little disturbed at how quickly I objectified her: she was an object that I was drawing. But, objectifying seems so negative and harsh and judgmental. I did not feel that way toward this woman. I guess I'm at a loss for words.
I was enamored, awed and wowed by her total body confidence. To stand, sit, twist while nude in front of a room full of people is courageous in this culture of "you are never thin enough." And this woman was not an anorexic twit. She was round, full-bodied and lovely.
And at this moment I am feeling so grateful for my own body, with all its flaws and shortcomings, puckers and rolls. I am feeling less judgment and more kindness toward myself and others. Our bodies our beautiful, whatever their shape, whatever their size. Amen.
09 March 2011
off the wagon!
Two months ago I decided to give up coffee because...
Wait. Why does anyone ever give up coffee? Oh, yes. I gave up coffee because the caffeine was getting me really wired and goofy. I had a sinus infection at the time and was sticking to drinking herbal tea until things settled down. And I just realized that now would be a good time to stop drinking coffee. So I did. It was no big deal.
Let me be clear. I was not weaning myself off drinking a gallon a day. I was weaning myself off of about 8 oz. per day - give or take 2 oz. No big deal.
A few weeks ago I started getting up really early (too early) to write and have some "me" time and I started drinking coffee again. I missed my coffee so I started drinking it again. There is something very nice about selecting my mug for the day, holding that warm goodness in my hands, smelling the coffee aroma and just enjoying the ritual.
So some new friends come over and I offer them coffee or tea. Everybody wants tea except one lady who sidles up to me and says, "I'm going to be bad and have the coffee. I had given it up..."
I turned to her and said, "I gave it up, too. And when I started drinking it again I wondered why I had ever stopped. Drinking coffee was like strapping a rocket booster on my butt! I actually got things done."
Of course, now I have another sinus infection. But, I don't blame that on coffee. I blame it on Virginia. I'm pretty sure that I'm allergic to this place: three sinus infections in five months. Yuck.
Wait. Why does anyone ever give up coffee? Oh, yes. I gave up coffee because the caffeine was getting me really wired and goofy. I had a sinus infection at the time and was sticking to drinking herbal tea until things settled down. And I just realized that now would be a good time to stop drinking coffee. So I did. It was no big deal.
Let me be clear. I was not weaning myself off drinking a gallon a day. I was weaning myself off of about 8 oz. per day - give or take 2 oz. No big deal.
A few weeks ago I started getting up really early (too early) to write and have some "me" time and I started drinking coffee again. I missed my coffee so I started drinking it again. There is something very nice about selecting my mug for the day, holding that warm goodness in my hands, smelling the coffee aroma and just enjoying the ritual.
So some new friends come over and I offer them coffee or tea. Everybody wants tea except one lady who sidles up to me and says, "I'm going to be bad and have the coffee. I had given it up..."
I turned to her and said, "I gave it up, too. And when I started drinking it again I wondered why I had ever stopped. Drinking coffee was like strapping a rocket booster on my butt! I actually got things done."
Of course, now I have another sinus infection. But, I don't blame that on coffee. I blame it on Virginia. I'm pretty sure that I'm allergic to this place: three sinus infections in five months. Yuck.
08 March 2011
a moveable feast ~ by ernest hemingway
"You got very hungry when you did not eat enough in Paris because all the bakery shops had such good things in the windows and people ate outside at tables on the sidewalks so that you saw and smelled the food. When you had given up journalism and were writing nothing that anyone in America would buy, explaining at home that you were lunching out with someone, the best place to go was the Luxembourg gardens where you saw and smelled nothing to eat all the way from the Place de l'Observatoire to the rue de Vaugirard. There you could always go into the Luxembourg museum and all the paintings were sharpened and clearer and more beautiful if you were belly-empty, hollow-hungry. I learned to understand Cezanne much better and to see truly how he made landscapes when I was hungry. I used to wonder if he were hungry too when he painted; but I thought possibly it was only that he had forgotten to eat. It was one of those unsound but illuminating thoughts you have when you have been sleepless or hungry. Later I though Cezanne was probably hungry in a different way."
01 March 2011
a delicate thread
I just reconnected with a friend from graduate school. It's been 8 years (gulp!) since we'd last seen each other. We had not spoken on the phone during that time. We did send an occasional e-mail, Christmas card or hand-written note.
Between the two of us there have been many, many moves, i.e. changes in contact information. We've been busy with husbands, jobs, local friends, family obligations, children.
The thread that has held us together has been very delicate at times.
Miraculously, gloriously, it didn't break.
On Saturday, I heard my friend's voice for the first time in 8 years. I saw her beautiful face. And it was as if no time had passed. The connection was fierce, remembered, very present. And so strong.
Talking with her was like giving my fire more fuel and oxygen.
I share this not to brag. (woo hoo people like me!) I am sharing because I realize that we came so close, so scarily close, to letting this friendship fall by the wayside. I sort of gasp when I think of that happening.
The connections we share with people vary: close, distant, obligatory. But when you have a connection that is very powerful, well, you just can't buy that. It is either present or it is not. And we all know it doesn't happen every day.
I can count on one hand the people with whom I share this kind of connection.
So my challenge to you is to call, write, e-mail, hunt down, contact that person with whom you've lost contact. Make a plan. Reconnect. Life is too short, too crazy, too busy, not to keep those whom are the most important to you in your life. Not to bring that person who connects to your soul back into your life.
You won't regret it.
Between the two of us there have been many, many moves, i.e. changes in contact information. We've been busy with husbands, jobs, local friends, family obligations, children.
The thread that has held us together has been very delicate at times.
Miraculously, gloriously, it didn't break.
On Saturday, I heard my friend's voice for the first time in 8 years. I saw her beautiful face. And it was as if no time had passed. The connection was fierce, remembered, very present. And so strong.
Talking with her was like giving my fire more fuel and oxygen.
I share this not to brag. (woo hoo people like me!) I am sharing because I realize that we came so close, so scarily close, to letting this friendship fall by the wayside. I sort of gasp when I think of that happening.
The connections we share with people vary: close, distant, obligatory. But when you have a connection that is very powerful, well, you just can't buy that. It is either present or it is not. And we all know it doesn't happen every day.
I can count on one hand the people with whom I share this kind of connection.
So my challenge to you is to call, write, e-mail, hunt down, contact that person with whom you've lost contact. Make a plan. Reconnect. Life is too short, too crazy, too busy, not to keep those whom are the most important to you in your life. Not to bring that person who connects to your soul back into your life.
You won't regret it.
25 February 2011
24 February 2011
desirous of everything at the same time
Oh, hi!
Well this last month has really gone fast. I apologize for disappearing without warning. In fact, I had no idea I'd be gone so long. I got out my calendar in an effort to figure out what I was doing that kept me from my blog for so long. Here are the bits and ends of my last few weeks:
Well this last month has really gone fast. I apologize for disappearing without warning. In fact, I had no idea I'd be gone so long. I got out my calendar in an effort to figure out what I was doing that kept me from my blog for so long. Here are the bits and ends of my last few weeks:
- Attending many Great Lives lectures. Most recently I learned about (Nelle) Harper Lee and I was inspired by the way she lives her life. There are many more interesting lectures coming and I plan on attending many of them.
- Contemplating entering an art show. Should I? Shouldn't I?
- Completing #25 on The List. Yes, we have a huge tipi in the middle of our living room and it is lovely. I took a nap in it this past weekend and woke with a smile on my face because, um, I woke up in a tipi.
- Taking a road trip to That Little Quilt Shop, Yoder's Country Market, the Tulikivi showroom and then to Culpeper, VA.
- Visiting friends in Maryland and northern Virginia. And, you know, making bread and gifts to share with them.
- Continuing with my drawing class. Learning to draw is like learning a new language. And it also feels that after each class I've both learned a whole lot and realized how very little I know. That old double-edged sword!
- The Hubby was out of town for a week...while I had a sinus infection.
- Attending multiple doctor appointments. All is well. But these things always take so long. So much waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting.
- Contemplating whether to participate in the 150-mile bike ride in June to benefit the MS Society.
- Reading, But No Elephants by Jerry Smath, too many times to count since I found it in a used book store. Is this book familiar to anybody else? I saw this book and it felt as if I fell into a childhood porthole. It is even better than I remember it.
- Enjoying three consecutive beautiful, sunny days which we spent almost entirely outside. What a welcome reprieve.
- Talking with friends: one was just diagnosed with MS, the other is in the midst of a messy divorce and the legal wrangling has reached a high pitch.
- Dealing with the fact that my family keeps eating (and I must keeping menu planning, grocery shopping and cooking) and wearing clothes (meaning I must keep doing laundry).
- Putting together an application for a work-for-hire gig. This has been a long time coming - years! - and it feels as if things are finally falling into place for me to pursue this. But just applying has been consuming most of my evening hours.
- Trying to figure out how to do this blog. I haven't been satisfied with my very shallow, daily posts. I would rather offer something of substance, though not as often. So, the search for some sort of style and balance and substance for content. Bear with me as I find my sea legs.
- Working on The List: I've purchase (but not assembled or used) a pinhole camera kit, I'm methodically reading "Grammatical Choices, Rhetorical Effects" one chapter at a time, I've put together a list of publications to submit my quilt essay to, I'm reading my Nikon D70 camera manual and it is so interesting and I'm not even being sarcastic (if you have a digital camera and haven't yet read its manual, I urge you to do so now as opposed to waiting 6+ years like me!), deciding not to attend the Virginia Festival of the Book (sadly, the only event that was of interest to me was $100 per ticket and sold out), working on reading Shakespeare (4 down, 2 to go).
- Feeling more and more like Jack Kerouac and I have so much in common.
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