oh, hello again!

For the past month or two, I've been meaning to create an altogether new blog with a new title; a space to start afresh.  Then I sort of got hung up on what said title ought to be, and the project stalled out.  As a freelance musician, my evenings at home are limited, and when I do have an evening home, it seems that a dozen different things are calling my name and vying for my attention!

I want to get back to my little corner of the web, though.  I came across a lovely blog post by Rachael back in January and the idea of it has stuck with me.  It's really a nice bit of information if you - like me, I admit - are not quite certain you've got the whole 21st century thing figured out with regards to your technology and your photo-keeping.  But what I loved the most was this part:

"Part of the trouble is that our digital lives are still often dismissed as self-indulging and ephemeral. Instagram accounts are mentioned with an eye roll. Collecting photos annually and having them printed and bound into books takes hours, truly hours to put together, and feels hard to justify when we’ve already posted it and relished the photo elsewhere. While we’d love our children to someday say “she kept a tidy lovely home” about us, it feels less important to imagine them saying “she did such a great job of documenting our family’s life together over the years.” 

Sometimes I think about blogs as this century’s cross-stitch sampler. I’ve encountered criticism of them as aggrandizing digital wastes of time. A trend. People still say things like “I don’t read blogs,” as if they were a category of acquired taste. But they are the next in a long historic line of homemaking habits, small lovely tributes to our abilities and hopes. Even if the writers gloss things over, even if they make life appear too clean and breezy. Though in theory written and created for others, they will always bring the most pleasure to their creator."

You should still go read the whole post, though.  But she really voiced something I've long thought; a sort of frustration with how "mom blogs" are viewed dismissively when in fact, they can be a beautiful place to gather memories and highlights of daily life.

I'm also inspired by her to create some photo books for our family, perhaps one for each year of our recent life.  Judging from how much Nell loves the family photo calendar my sister-in-law made for us for Christmas -- she asks to look through those monthly pictures almost every day! -- I know she would love having a photo book to sit and look through, to look back on her life as a baby as well as the more recent memories we've created.

So it was that bit of writing from Rachael, in part, that reminded me to return to this neglected space, which I do hope to soon move to another corner of the internet whenever I can settle on where that corner ought to be.

In the mean time, this week is a week spent at home for me, quite welcome after several rehearsals and concerts last week.  It has been filled with everyday moments that we've enjoyed quite thoroughly so far.

Sixty-degree weather on Monday merited a trip to the park.

This particular park, just two minutes from our house, is more than just a playground - there's farm land and a barn with animals as well.

Ree yelled happily or angrily {one couldn't quite be certain which} at all the animals, over and over again: "Hiiiii!  Hiiiii!" (Which comes out more like "Iiiiii!")  I think she thought it was quite rude that they didn't acknowledge her enthusiastic greetings.

Nell was charmed to make the acquaintance of this sweet little goat.

Seeing the girls hanging on fences reminded me of similar timeless moments in my own childhood; somehow perhaps some of the most important things I ever did might have been doing nothing at all, if any sense can be made of that.  I've been pondering the nature of childhood lately, more and more as we move decidedly out of pure toddlerdom and into little girlhood and all that lies ahead.  {Very much on my mind: schooling in the future years and what we'd like to do for that!}

Nell has been faithfully helping me water our amaryllis plants in the living room, and they've all burst into bloom in the past week with a vibrancy that takes me by surprise each time I walk into that room.  I suppose it would be odd to admit that these plants were rescued from a trash bin, but there you go, I've said it.  I have to say it, because to me, it somehow makes their blooms that much more beautiful.

And finally, in hopes of more warm days soon to come, I dug up and created a branch border for a "Bit of Earth" for the girls.  They may not have a sandbox {yet}, but who doesn't love to just dig in the dirt?  And now that Ree is old enough to dig without eating said dirt, I believe it will occupy many imaginative hours of play this spring and summer.  It's a little area beside the shed and off the edge of the proper lawn.  A few pails and trowels and sticks and some pairs of play clothes are all that's needed for a very good time!

I know it's only the beginning of March, but I'm dreaming of many more warm days soon to come.

Today, on the other hand, was a bit rainy, so we found ourselves at the library and arrived home armed with some wonderful books.  Perhaps I'll write again soon and share some of our recent favorites!

today

Today was one of those days where I'm looking back on several motherhood moments that aren't exactly my finest.  The day seemed aimless.  I didn't get much done.  I felt impatient and frustrated with my toddler, a.k.a. Princess Grump.

We had a snowstorm today, and spent the day indoors.

 

All my students ended up canceling for today, but Nathan still had to go in to work, so it was just the two of us all day, Nell with a bit of a runny nose and me hobbling around thanks to a lovely little condition I have in which basically, pregnancy makes your ligaments stop holding your joints together properly and IT HURTS A LOT.  And you don't even get a reprieve at night, because it actually defies all logic and hurts even more when you're trying to lie still and get some sleep.  But far be it from me to complain; I did, after all, get in a whole four or five weeks of feeling good between the hyperemesis and then this setting in.

Nell woke up from her nap this afternoon in a royal funk, and weirdly refused to be picked up, didn't want to be snuggled, didn't want me near her, but wailed louder than ever when I offered her some time to herself and started to leave the room.  Toddlers!  They can be among the world's greatest mysteries.  She refused her lunch in a state of near hysteria, and only finally settled down when offered a rare afternoon nursing session.  After that, the same lunch that was previously inconceivably offensive was gobbled down with tacit approval, and followed up with a whole grapefruit, one of her latest loves.

{"Fine.  That meal was acceptable after all, Mom.  But merely acceptable."}

Her satisfaction was short-lived.  I even resorted to putting on a ridiculous toddler show on Netflix late in the afternoon -- something I haven't done except when the days of hyperemesis were leaving me practically incapacitated -- to pass the final minutes until Nathan got home.  I did this partly because Nell was just fussing constantly, and partly because I needed to lie down because I felt like I couldn't breathe very well.  Great!  Oxygen deprivation has set in already and I still have ten more weeks to go.

We had grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for dinner, and I managed to touch the outer edge of my thumb against the frying pan for the split-est of seconds, which somehow was enough to raise a white blister and cause a lot of pain.

Did you know that some people claim aluminum foil can help heal a burn?  No joke.  My burn was feeling OK only so long as I was running it under cold water or holding ice in a towel on it, and an hour and a half later, still in pain, I found myself turning to Earth Clinic - a site I love - for advice on treating burns.  The aluminum foil trick seemed too bizarre NOT to try, so try it I did.  And within five minutes that darn burn was feeling significantly better.  Within ten minutes it didn't hurt.  In twenty minutes Nathan found me and asked if I was protecting my thumb from aliens, and I took off the foil.  The pain hasn't come back!  Placebo effect?  Or can this possibly be real?

Nell got super cute and sweet after dinner, which she likes to do so that her Daddy will be charmed and wonder what her Mama could ever find remotely difficult about such a sweet little cherub.  

Really, though, it's so nice that even runny-nosed-cranky-pants days can end with snuggles and happy bedtimes.  It may take her a while to fall asleep sometimes, but who can complain about a happy girl that likes to snuggle and oh-so-cutely insists on Mama or Daddy lying beside her and singing a bit at bedtime?

{And usually just when I think she's drifted off to sleep, she turns toward me and declares, "LA!", which means, "Excuse me Mama, I didn't give you permission to stop singing."}

Nemo

You've probably heard that here in the Boston area we're getting treated to some serious weather tonight.  A blizzard!

Thanks to this storm's name, I can't help thinking to myself, "Just keep snowing, just keep snowing..."

Nell says, "Bring it on, Nemo!"

{Yes, in honor of the blizzard, I pulled out a stuffed Nemo for Nell to play with today, left here accidentally last time my friend Story and her kids visited.  Sorry, Joneses; I hope you're not missing your Nemo too much.}

This is predicted to be the worst storm to hit this area since the blizzard of 1978, when some people trying to get home from work actually died in their idling cars as the exhaust pipes became covered with snow.  Survivors were evacuated from vehicles stuck on the highway by cross country skiers and snowshoers.

Our governor banned transportation starting at 4:00 pm today, with a penalty of a $500 fine or up to a year in jail if people venture out on the roads tonight.

So, suffice it to say, we're staying cozy here at home, with a fire in the fireplace, our electronic devices charging in case of a power outage, and really hoping the load of diapers in the laundry can get finished before such a hypothetical power outage might occur.

Nell loves looking out the window in our front door -- or is it just touching the cold glass she really likes?

Who could mind the little finger prints left behind when faced with a smile like this one?

Stay safe and warm, New Englanders!

snow, finally

It's been a mild winter so far.  We've had two or three light snow showers, sure, but nothing like we usually get here in New England.  Two years ago today I posted this, and I remember the snow piles on either side of our driveway were so high I couldn't even throw shovelfuls up onto them, try as I might.  There was literally no place left to put all the snow.  Trucks were carrying snow into the Boston Common just to get it off the roads.

This year?  This year is nothing like the winter of 2011, at least not so far.  And while I'm not asking for piles of snow higher than my head (please, no), I wasn't that crazy about it being 60 degrees (SIXTY!) on Monday, either.  What is this, Florida?  Southern California?  If I must put up with the crazy drivers and the abysmal roads and the politics of Massachusetts, give me a crisp New England winter, please.

So naturally, I was rather pleased when I awakened to this scene on Wednesday morning:

The neighborhood was blanketed in two or three inches of snow, and it was quiet and calm and beautiful.

{I took a picture of our favorite house on the street like a creeper.  Our neighbors have the nice brick house on this little cul-de-sac.  We have the not-so-nice brick house across the way from them.  But we keep hoping someday ours can look a little more like theirs.}

This morning Nell and I went grocery shopping in sub-twenty-degree weather.  I bundled her up and she positively wriggled with excitement as we dashed from the car to the warmth inside of Trader Joe's.  She gasps at the cold air, but she loves it - as long as she's snug against me and can burrow her face into my neck whenever she needs to.  

Autumn

It almost happened overnight.  Suddenly this week the mornings are chillier, the leaves are turning, and the air smells different.  We've had a few days now where the temperature didn't go over 70.  It's autumn, fast approaching.

I wrote this post two years ago, but it puts into words exactly the way I feel about the seasons, and it's as true this September as it was in September of 2010.

* * *

Why does it continue to surprise me, year after year, that I love all the seasons in New England? Each March it seems that I can't bear to see one more muddy, dreary snowdrift pushed up against a curb, or to button my coat against the bone-chilling cold one more time. Just when I think I'll go crazy from the endless grey skies and cold winds, the daffodils outside my front door peek through the ground. I welcome spring and all its signs of new life. Spring leads to summer, and in June and July, I am certain that summer is my favorite season. I want summer to last forever. I love the feel of the sun on my skin while I run in the mornings, or work in my garden, or go to the beach with friends. 

Suddenly, September sneaks up on me, and I notice that the first of the leaves have already turned. I reach for tights to put on with my skirts, for flats instead of flip-flops, and for favorite scarves that have been put away for the past four months. I remember that I love fall - that maybe, in fact, fall is my favorite season. It rains while I'm driving home from Boston, and I turn off the radio to fully immerse myself in the sound of the rain on my car roof, the rhythm of my windshield wipers, and the nostalgic reminder this is of autumns and winters past. I want to have a mug of hot tea the minute I get home, to curl up under a blanket with a good book. 

And as I think of that, I think of winter, and how nice it'll be to have snowfall in a few months, to make hot chocolate for the two of us to enjoy on the occasional lazy morning, to read on the couch with my favorite grey fleece pants to keep me warm. And there will be Christmas, as wonderful as it always is, with Christmas concerts to play and Christmas music to sing and joyful times with family and friends. Come February or March, the snow will become mixed with mud and we'll all long for the sun to come out. Spring bulbs will finally poke their pale green heads above the frosty ground, and the cycle will go on as it always has.

The arrival of each season surprises me, year after year, with its beauty and charm. Just as I'm growing a bit tired of one, the next one sweeps me off my feet.

Summer of 2010, I loved you.

But oh...

I love autumn in New England.

* * *

I love each season's arrival, but if I had to pick a favorite, it might be Autumn.

I love the flowers and sunshine and carefree days of summer, but in the end, I love crisp fall weather and hearty fall soups and cozy fall clothes too much for summer to be my favorite.  Give me tights, boots, and a cardigan with a mug of tea in my hand any day over shorts and tank tops and lemonade.

Recent Weather Happenings

This October was a bit unprecedented for weather, at least in my personal East Coast experience over the past eight or nine years.

It snowed the night of October 27. In the morning I took a few photos:

It was just a light dusting, but still... snow before Halloween!

And if that wasn't enough, we got a more significant snowstorm on the 29th/30th:

My poor chrysanthemums were crushed!

Some people on the news were calling it "Snowtober," but I think that's ridiculous. If you must create a word mash-up, "Ocsnowber" would be much better.

Snow Shoveling

I think I can safely add to my list of occasions for which a girl ought to get a little dressed up: If you must shovel snow from your driveway, you might want to try doing it in a skirt.

Wednesday morning I spent about 30 minutes shoveling snow from our driveway, and by early afternoon I was out there again for a second round of shoveling so my students could easily park for their lessons.

I should mention that I am by no means a damsel in distress when it comes to snow removal; I grew up regularly shoveling snow not only for my family's driveway but for the entire private road on which we lived. I am a snow-shoveling pro, and I don't mind the work in the least.

However, after about five minutes, a guy with a plow on his truck who was driving by waved at me, honked, and gestured for me to step aside. In two pushes and thirty seconds he accomplished what would have taken me about half an hour.

When I told Nathan what had happened, he said, "From now on you're the designated snow shoveler. Whenever we need to shovel the driveway I'm just sending you outside to stand there and look pretty."

Snowstorm

Last week we had a big snowstorm. Schools were cancelled for not one day but two days in a row. We got about 18 inches of snow in one day, I think. It was pretty epic.

I took pictures through our kitchen window because I'm a wimp like that.


I'll be honest: I am not the snow adventurer I was when I was a kid. I don't like the cold. I'll go out to shovel snow when necessary, but I don't think to myself, "Oh snow, hurray, I think I'll go build a snowman and have a snowball fight and get wet jeans and damp socks and cold snow down my neck and frostbite on my fingers! I'll lie in the cold wet stuff and make snow angels, and slide around on it and get it all up and down my pant legs, and then when I go inside I'll track it into my house so my floors can be wet!"

Like I said, wimp. And you can add boring to the list if you want. I'm okay with it.

I did venture out to get a picture of some icicles on our house:


I snapped this picture just before my index finger froze and dropped off at my feet. You don't believe me? You must not live in New England. It is really cold here.

For example, last night it was seven degrees out by 9:00 pm. Seven.

This kind of weather does not make me altogether happy, although it does look very pretty - as long as I can stay inside where it's warm.