I'm playing follow-the-leader with PoMo Golightly and Tea Leaves in deciding to give Reverb 10 a try. One prompt a day for the month of December, reflecting back on the year just past and looking forward to what could be in the year ahead. And, as a bonus, it could get me blogging daily.
December 1 – One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you? (Author: Gwen Bell)
The word for 2010 is, without a doubt, "change." Since January of this year I have: started a full-time job at a bank (ugh!), bought a house, moved, ended a relationship, attended the funeral of a college friend, celebrated a milestone birthday, conquered my NYC anxiety, left the bank job for my old art college job, had my freelance outlets die on the vine, returned to meditation (and, to a lesser extent, yoga), and become friends with my ex-husband. Well, those were the major things, anyway. It has been a year during which I have honestly never been quite sure what was waiting around the next corner or at the end of any given day.
The changes have been a blend of good and bad, and most of them have had significant lessons attached to them. I've tried to ride all of them out with as much equanimity as I could muster, but, I have to admit, it hasn't always been easy. It certainly won't be a year I'll forget too quickly.
As for 2011, I'd love for the word this time next year to be "equilibrium." I don't want to be static, by any means, but I want to be at a point at which I feel as though I can handle what is coming at me with grace. I want to not be upended by each new thing, good, bad, or indifferent. I have to believe that this is not too much to ask.
December 2 – Writing. What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it? (Author: Leo Babauta)
Most of what I do each day doesn't contribute to my writing. I find practically any excuse to put it off, or to shelve it altogether, because part of me is convinced that it doesn't have enough value to bother doing. I know that's not true, and if I would work consistently at writing, rather than frittering my time away with things that have even less value, I would see the truth of it more clearly and devote more time and energy to producing work and putting it out for more than just my own eyes.
Showing posts with label Lancaster. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lancaster. Show all posts
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
I've Grown Accustomed to My Space
Well, I'm beginning to, at any rate.
I haven't done tons of unpacking this week, but I've spent a lot of time in my house, just getting used to being there, listening to neighborhood and house sounds, and learning to sleep in a new bedroom. I am happy there, of that there is no question. Even with practically no furniture, and 75% of my belongings still in boxes, I know it's where I want to be.
I start my days listening to Morning Edition and watering my plants in the postage stamp backyard. I have onions, cardinal climbers, and (as of this afternoon) rosemary. If there are hummingbirds in the city, they may well make their way to my backyard later in the summer -- here's hoping, anyway!
I'm slowly meeting people in my neighborhood, and, thus far, to a person, everyone has talked about how much they love the area. I knew going in that it would be a good place, but it's nice to have it validated by people who already live there.
Next weekend is a furniture auction, which is financially daunting, but has the potential of getting me a few heirloom quality pieces, all by the same maker, which will cut down significantly on any running around to secondhand stores looking for things that may not stand the test of time.
I have tons of ideas of what I eventually want to do to/with this place (my house!), but I need to rein myself in and just live with it as is for a while until I can get a better sense of what really needs to happen in each part of the house. I've only been sleeping there for ten days -- not nearly long enough to get a true sense of how I'll use the space for the long haul.
So, that's where I am at the moment. Still visiting cafes for internet access, still unpacking, still trying to remember that change is never ending, and a positive part of life, no matter how it feels in the moment.
I haven't done tons of unpacking this week, but I've spent a lot of time in my house, just getting used to being there, listening to neighborhood and house sounds, and learning to sleep in a new bedroom. I am happy there, of that there is no question. Even with practically no furniture, and 75% of my belongings still in boxes, I know it's where I want to be.
I start my days listening to Morning Edition and watering my plants in the postage stamp backyard. I have onions, cardinal climbers, and (as of this afternoon) rosemary. If there are hummingbirds in the city, they may well make their way to my backyard later in the summer -- here's hoping, anyway!
I'm slowly meeting people in my neighborhood, and, thus far, to a person, everyone has talked about how much they love the area. I knew going in that it would be a good place, but it's nice to have it validated by people who already live there.
Next weekend is a furniture auction, which is financially daunting, but has the potential of getting me a few heirloom quality pieces, all by the same maker, which will cut down significantly on any running around to secondhand stores looking for things that may not stand the test of time.
I have tons of ideas of what I eventually want to do to/with this place (my house!), but I need to rein myself in and just live with it as is for a while until I can get a better sense of what really needs to happen in each part of the house. I've only been sleeping there for ten days -- not nearly long enough to get a true sense of how I'll use the space for the long haul.
So, that's where I am at the moment. Still visiting cafes for internet access, still unpacking, still trying to remember that change is never ending, and a positive part of life, no matter how it feels in the moment.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
So, I Have This House...
I've been busy for the last little while, and the result of that busy-ness is that I now own a house! I know, nearly 40 and just getting around to buying real estate. Most of my stuff is there now and I've slept there for three nights, but I am so far from being settled in it's ridiculous.
I'm looking forward to having a space that's really and truly mine. I already chose colors for two rooms and got them painted before I moved in, and even that was really cool. I got to decide, for the first time ever, what colors I wanted walls to be. Here is what I chose, if you're interested:
Moss Print, for the bedroom
Clear Pond and Perfectly Taupe for the kitchen.
The rest of the rooms were white or cream when I bought the house, so I've left them for the time being.
The prospect of home ownership is daunting and thrilling in equal measures. I already have a list of things I'd like to do, even though I absolutely know that I'll need to wait for most of them. My house is sparsely furnished, at best, because I've been living in shared or small rentals for over a decade, and either didn't need or didn't have room for full-scale furniture. Now that has changed, and I'll have to start looking for decent used furniture that will work for the space and for me. I'm leaning toward trying to find things that fit with the age of the house (built in 1900).
Vitals? It's a 1035 s.f. two-story three bedroom row house on a quiet Lancaster street. It only adds about five minutes to my walking commute downtown. There's a decent-sized front porch and a postage-stamp back yard, both of which I look forward to using.
My next adventure! Meanwhile, I'll be going to MD Sheep & Wool for the first time in a few years. Maybe I'll see you there!
I'm looking forward to having a space that's really and truly mine. I already chose colors for two rooms and got them painted before I moved in, and even that was really cool. I got to decide, for the first time ever, what colors I wanted walls to be. Here is what I chose, if you're interested:
Moss Print, for the bedroom
Clear Pond and Perfectly Taupe for the kitchen.
The rest of the rooms were white or cream when I bought the house, so I've left them for the time being.
The prospect of home ownership is daunting and thrilling in equal measures. I already have a list of things I'd like to do, even though I absolutely know that I'll need to wait for most of them. My house is sparsely furnished, at best, because I've been living in shared or small rentals for over a decade, and either didn't need or didn't have room for full-scale furniture. Now that has changed, and I'll have to start looking for decent used furniture that will work for the space and for me. I'm leaning toward trying to find things that fit with the age of the house (built in 1900).
Vitals? It's a 1035 s.f. two-story three bedroom row house on a quiet Lancaster street. It only adds about five minutes to my walking commute downtown. There's a decent-sized front porch and a postage-stamp back yard, both of which I look forward to using.
My next adventure! Meanwhile, I'll be going to MD Sheep & Wool for the first time in a few years. Maybe I'll see you there!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
What I Noticed on My Walk Home
Before I left work today, I decided I wanted to pay a bit more attention to my surroundings as I walked across town toward home, then make note of what I picked up on here. Often, at the end of the day, all I really focus on is the being home, rather then the getting there, which defeats the purpose of a pedestrian commute, somehow.
Here are the few things that stood out for me today:
1. I forgot to roll the cuffs of my pants up when I changed shoes. The pants I wore today were a bit long for the flat sandals I wear to walk to and from. I didn't notice that they weren't cuffed until I was out of the building, so I was definitely more careful in the way I walked, to avoid stepping on -- or getting caught up in -- my pant legs. I also avoided walking down the middle of Grant Street past Central Market, since the pavers are loose and apt to squirt stale water when stepped on.
2. A woman coming out of Carmen & David's with a tiny tasting cone of something undoubtably delicious. I've seen this same woman order one of these before. The cone is only an inch or two tall, with a little, proportional scoop on top. It would be a good way to rationalize having ice cream more than once a week, but there's something about my Saturday ice cream ritual, and the regular small cone that lasts almost all the way home that I cherish.
3. The lush, overflowing planters lining the stoops and windows along Gallery Row. Round, square and rectangular planters overflowing with green, red, and variegated leafy plants, and tons of blooms, mostly red. I'm terrible at identifying plants, though I think I saw a geranium in one of them. They are maintained very well and looked so lush and healthy even in the heat and humidity of late afternoon.
4. A stylish woman waiting in very high heels. I only saw her in profile, and I'm guessing she was waiting for a car, rather than a bus, because of where she was standing. She was impeccably dressed and didn't look bothered by the heat, and carried off the tall, narrow heels with grace, something I have never managed to do.
5. The fact that I can't write while walking. As I crossed the first of three parking lots, I took my little notebook and a pen out of my bag to jot some of these things down, because sometimes things just don't lodge firmly in my memory. As soon as I opened the notebook and thought about uncapping the pen, I realized that I wouldn't be able to write and walk at the same time. It does seem odd that I can knit and walk but not write and walk, but I think it is because the activities of the two hands would be so different when writing than they are when knitting. I just carried the pen and notebook in my left hand the rest of the way home.
6. Half a dozen (give or take) little brown birds pecking under, then flying from, the hedges between Water Street and Kelly Michener. I'm guessing they were sparrows, pecking and scratching in the dust beneath the hedges until I got close, then wheeling up as a group to perch in the tree branches overhead while I passed.
7. A fresh drift of auto glass in the Kelly Michener lot. It seems like there is a fresh one every couple of weeks, which then gets dispersed by car tires into the surface cracks in the asphalt across the surface of the lot. Remind me never to park there, or to contemplate walking it barefoot -- there are also frequently shards of broken beer bottles scattered around.
8. An adjustable lamp in the window of Odyssey Salon. Nothing terribly special about it, just brushed aluminum with a swing arm, but it was on, or just below, the windowsill and caught my eye as I passed on my way through parking lot #3.
9. Small, bright sunflowers leaning toward the parking lot just off Mulberry street. These were at the far end of lot #3, and were very cheery and bright and leaning away from the fence they were planted against and into the parking lot, as if to say, "Hi! Notice us!"
10. Mostly clear sidewalk washing water running down the gutter along Mulberry Street. Apparently the sidewalk (between two houses) wasn't very dirty, because the water seemed awfully clear. I'd expected it to be from a car being washed (except for the lack of suds), because that happens frequently at roughly the same spot.
11. Around the corner/down the street neighbors waving from their front porch. I don't even know their names, but they were regulars at Dosie Dough, and I see them frequently on my walks through the neighborhood and we always say hello or wave (I was across the street today).
12. The insistent din of cicadas in the trees on my block. I didn't hear them at all until I got under the trees on the other side of the alley which bisects our side of the block, then, wham, all at once. I can hear them outside my window now, over the drone of the fan.
Wow, a lot more than I would have guessed, somehow, though probably not much for a 20 - 25 minute walk. Glad I carried out the exercise, though.
Here are the few things that stood out for me today:
1. I forgot to roll the cuffs of my pants up when I changed shoes. The pants I wore today were a bit long for the flat sandals I wear to walk to and from. I didn't notice that they weren't cuffed until I was out of the building, so I was definitely more careful in the way I walked, to avoid stepping on -- or getting caught up in -- my pant legs. I also avoided walking down the middle of Grant Street past Central Market, since the pavers are loose and apt to squirt stale water when stepped on.
2. A woman coming out of Carmen & David's with a tiny tasting cone of something undoubtably delicious. I've seen this same woman order one of these before. The cone is only an inch or two tall, with a little, proportional scoop on top. It would be a good way to rationalize having ice cream more than once a week, but there's something about my Saturday ice cream ritual, and the regular small cone that lasts almost all the way home that I cherish.
3. The lush, overflowing planters lining the stoops and windows along Gallery Row. Round, square and rectangular planters overflowing with green, red, and variegated leafy plants, and tons of blooms, mostly red. I'm terrible at identifying plants, though I think I saw a geranium in one of them. They are maintained very well and looked so lush and healthy even in the heat and humidity of late afternoon.
4. A stylish woman waiting in very high heels. I only saw her in profile, and I'm guessing she was waiting for a car, rather than a bus, because of where she was standing. She was impeccably dressed and didn't look bothered by the heat, and carried off the tall, narrow heels with grace, something I have never managed to do.
5. The fact that I can't write while walking. As I crossed the first of three parking lots, I took my little notebook and a pen out of my bag to jot some of these things down, because sometimes things just don't lodge firmly in my memory. As soon as I opened the notebook and thought about uncapping the pen, I realized that I wouldn't be able to write and walk at the same time. It does seem odd that I can knit and walk but not write and walk, but I think it is because the activities of the two hands would be so different when writing than they are when knitting. I just carried the pen and notebook in my left hand the rest of the way home.
6. Half a dozen (give or take) little brown birds pecking under, then flying from, the hedges between Water Street and Kelly Michener. I'm guessing they were sparrows, pecking and scratching in the dust beneath the hedges until I got close, then wheeling up as a group to perch in the tree branches overhead while I passed.
7. A fresh drift of auto glass in the Kelly Michener lot. It seems like there is a fresh one every couple of weeks, which then gets dispersed by car tires into the surface cracks in the asphalt across the surface of the lot. Remind me never to park there, or to contemplate walking it barefoot -- there are also frequently shards of broken beer bottles scattered around.
8. An adjustable lamp in the window of Odyssey Salon. Nothing terribly special about it, just brushed aluminum with a swing arm, but it was on, or just below, the windowsill and caught my eye as I passed on my way through parking lot #3.
9. Small, bright sunflowers leaning toward the parking lot just off Mulberry street. These were at the far end of lot #3, and were very cheery and bright and leaning away from the fence they were planted against and into the parking lot, as if to say, "Hi! Notice us!"
10. Mostly clear sidewalk washing water running down the gutter along Mulberry Street. Apparently the sidewalk (between two houses) wasn't very dirty, because the water seemed awfully clear. I'd expected it to be from a car being washed (except for the lack of suds), because that happens frequently at roughly the same spot.
11. Around the corner/down the street neighbors waving from their front porch. I don't even know their names, but they were regulars at Dosie Dough, and I see them frequently on my walks through the neighborhood and we always say hello or wave (I was across the street today).
12. The insistent din of cicadas in the trees on my block. I didn't hear them at all until I got under the trees on the other side of the alley which bisects our side of the block, then, wham, all at once. I can hear them outside my window now, over the drone of the fan.
Wow, a lot more than I would have guessed, somehow, though probably not much for a 20 - 25 minute walk. Glad I carried out the exercise, though.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
In Which I'm Not Much of a Cook
Many weeks I go to market three days a week. Now that Eastern Market is open again, I'll likely be going to two markets on Saturdays. I love seeing piles of fresh vegetables and imagining what I could do with them. The problem is, I get tempted by all of that lovely, fresh stuff, buy it, take it home, and usually dump most of it into the composter when it gets brown and/or mushy. I hate that.
Today at Central Market* I only bought yogurt and milk (okay, and strawberry shortcake) and at Eastern Market only mushrooms (okay, and mango ice), because most of the piles of lovely produce I bought last week were still sitting in the fridge.
This evening I decided I was going to use at least some of it so that I wouldn't have to compost it all, and so that I would eat something other than cereal (it was an odd week, I was hibernating).
First, I roasted slices of eggplant and white zucchini in the toaster oven with a couple of cloves of garlic and some olive oil. I had them on slices of good Italian bread spread with chive goat cheese, not bad. I have some left over, and am thinking of putting it in sandwiches to take to Long's Park tomorrow night, to supplement my obligatory french fries.
Next, I chopped my bunch of chard, the other zucchini, a few mushrooms, and some garlic. I started the garlic in olive oil, then added the chard stems, mushrooms, and zucchini. I let them soften a bit, then added dried thyme (probably not enough) and balsamic vinegar. When they had cooked another minute or two, I piled the pan high with ribbons of chard leaves, added more balsamic, and put a lid on the whole thing to let the leaves wilt, while I boiled some whole wheat pasta. The result was definitely edible, but didn't have any zip. I have leftovers, which I will definitely eat, but I need to get more creative with herbs and spices if I'm going to cook random piles of vegetables.
I am not an intuitive cook, though I'd like to be. I'm just not quite sure how to get there from here. Any advice would be welcome.
*Part of what I did at Central Market today was to staff the Buy Fresh Buy Local table and hand out the brand new Local Food Guide for Lancaster County. It's a handy little resource, and will be helpful for people in the area interested in adding more local food to their diets.
Today at Central Market* I only bought yogurt and milk (okay, and strawberry shortcake) and at Eastern Market only mushrooms (okay, and mango ice), because most of the piles of lovely produce I bought last week were still sitting in the fridge.
This evening I decided I was going to use at least some of it so that I wouldn't have to compost it all, and so that I would eat something other than cereal (it was an odd week, I was hibernating).
First, I roasted slices of eggplant and white zucchini in the toaster oven with a couple of cloves of garlic and some olive oil. I had them on slices of good Italian bread spread with chive goat cheese, not bad. I have some left over, and am thinking of putting it in sandwiches to take to Long's Park tomorrow night, to supplement my obligatory french fries.
Next, I chopped my bunch of chard, the other zucchini, a few mushrooms, and some garlic. I started the garlic in olive oil, then added the chard stems, mushrooms, and zucchini. I let them soften a bit, then added dried thyme (probably not enough) and balsamic vinegar. When they had cooked another minute or two, I piled the pan high with ribbons of chard leaves, added more balsamic, and put a lid on the whole thing to let the leaves wilt, while I boiled some whole wheat pasta. The result was definitely edible, but didn't have any zip. I have leftovers, which I will definitely eat, but I need to get more creative with herbs and spices if I'm going to cook random piles of vegetables.I am not an intuitive cook, though I'd like to be. I'm just not quite sure how to get there from here. Any advice would be welcome.
*Part of what I did at Central Market today was to staff the Buy Fresh Buy Local table and hand out the brand new Local Food Guide for Lancaster County. It's a handy little resource, and will be helpful for people in the area interested in adding more local food to their diets.
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