a flirtation

i really hope this isn't a tease.

this breath of spring. this whirlwind of warmth. driving with the windows down, hair rippling in the setting sun.

it better not leave me, for i am already much too addicted to it. much too intoxicated by its charm to return. to winter and its sad bones. 

this is curly hair weather. lipstick weather. pretty paisley dress and open-toe wedges weather. flowers emerge from hibernation and stretch their pretty heads to the heavens.

and last night, it was picnic weather. under the shade tree in our front yard, by the country road to my grandpa's house. 

it was soft blanket, pass me the salad bowl, lay on our backs and look at the periwinkle twilight weather.

and it was beautiful. we made a simple vegetable couscous and spring salad. drank water out of plastic cups plastered with our alma mater.

and just like that, valentine's day was complete.

don't leave me, sweet hint of spring. instead, come just a little each day. just a smidgen. inch your way toward our little cottage until one day, mid-june, you arrive in all your glory.

and i'll thank you by basking in you, all summer long.

writing home

i could write about the circus.
the way the cotton candy smell danced around the stadium and the children smiled and spun their lighted wands in the air. the peanut shells at our feet and the trapeze artists with their eyeliner and glitter.

and i could write about the food we ate. 
the creamy ricotta cheese pizza, oreo ice cream and crispy scallops. the crab cake sandwich i waited for since last february. at that little cafe by the sea, with windows on every wall. the movie popcorn and pepsi. the sweet indulgence of vacation.

or i could write about the ocean.
the emptiness of the shore in winter. the shell fragments under my bare feet and the wet sand between my toes. holding my shoes by the side of my rolled up jeans. the warm, salty wind blowing my ponytail. 


or the images. the beautiful, unforgettable images.

but really, the best way to sum up this long weekend happened on the drive back.

i had my bare feet on the dashboard. my seat leaned back. i shut my eyes and felt the sun, hidden for so long. the darkness behind my eyelids turned to a shade of honey, then amber, then ruby. and i felt the warmth on my cheek.

i turned and looked over at robert, driving us home in the sunset. and i knew. this was my favorite part of the trip. driving home together. knowing that no matter how much fun we have on vacation, nothing beats the day-in, day-out beauty of our normal life and the happiness it brings us. and trips are awesome. but no hot tub, dinner special, or late check-out time can trump the simple joy of coming home.

and that's the only thing worth writing about at all.

cutting corners

sometimes i take the easy way out, it's true. well, maybe not the easy way, but the practical way, which often seems to be the same thing. and it's crazy. i'm creative, passionate and ambitious about some things. but others, eh. not so much. sometimes saving time and money trumps being free-spirited, and i cut corners. in fact, i cut corners twice this week, and it's only wednesday.

i shall explain.

xxx

   

cutting corners #1

yesterday morning, my hair dryer died. it would not even start. and i realized this only after i washed my hair. so there i was, six in the morning, sopping hair dripping down my cold back. and all i could think of was my mama, and how she chided me for going out of the house in the winter with damp hair, and how horrified this situation would make her.

then i started scheming. of a morning trip to wal-mart to get a replacement. i thought, hey, i can make this fun! i'll go right now, super early. grab me an coffee and granola bar from my favorite organic bakery. get to work before my boss. catch up on writing letters at my desk. watch the sunrise on my drive.

instead, i went about my morning as usual, puttering around the house until the last minute, and i dried my hair with the heat vent in my car. static ensued.

cutting corners #2

the other night, i had ambitions of going to the gym. actually using that monthly membership, because right now it's just looking like a pretty expensive "free" t-shirt.

what did i do instead?

exercise on demand. from my living room, in front of the television {did you know there are like 50 free shows to choose from?} i did pilates and hip hop classes and learned the audition dance from cats, all in about 45 minutes. i didn't run on the treadmill, do any crunches, or even really break a sweat. it was kind of pathetic, but i never see robert during the day, and wanted to be home with him.

-------

so my days didn't go exactly as planned. but i'm still just as blessed today as yesterday.  and the creativity and energy will come again, just as smoothly and effortlessly as it went. 

and i thank God for today. for the chance to be me, even if that means cutting corners every now and again.

hey, at least when you cut corners, you're not square.

the pains and gains of womanhood

she seemed glad to see me when i appeared in the kitchen, and by watching her i began to think there was some skill involved in being a girl.

-to kill a mockingbird

 xxxx

it happened on wednesday. standing in line for my frappe. white chocolate mocha with a shot of caramel. at a new coffee shop. across the street from the post office where my dad works. a little lunch break reprieve.

i felt a tiny hand on my shoulder, and turned around. a middle-aged woman, with graying hair, modest slacks and an oversized sweater looked through her glasses into my eyes. "i just don't know how you do it," she spoke to me in her southern voice not unlike my own. "those high heels. don't they hurt your feet?" 

i looked down at my shiny brown pumps, a little bit of toe cleavage emerged, then sunk back into the leather, as the tips of the shoes made a sharp point. she was right. they were uncomfortable. too high. too pointy. a bit too small. "i don't know..." i trailed off. "the things you do for fashion, i guess!" i smiled to close the conversation, grabbed my sweating coffee, and hurried out the door, careful to walk precisely, to demonstrate to her that i could, indeed, navigate my way on the cobblestone wearing these awful shoes.

it happened again on thursday.

i came home yesterday evening and even before kissing robert or rubbing pablo's ears, i unzipped my dress. and took a deep breath. for the first time all day. a real, good, from-the-gut inhale. and it felt delicious.

because all day, i had squeezed my upper body into this outfit that hugged me, squeezed me, controlled me.

robert just shook his head. "i don't know why you girls torture yourself like this" he said as he helped me lift the dress over my curls.

but what he doesn't know, what he can never realize, is that i do it because i want to.

because that dress was from h&m. it was silver and purple. flowy and ruffly on the bottom. only seven dollars on sale. one of my favorite new finds. heck, one of my favorite new dresses period. and i was willing to suffer a little for it, i suppose.

because femininity is sacred, and takes many different forms.

for some, it's sinking into a bubble bath, nose deep. it can be cooking. dancing. wearing your husband's button-down shirt. rocking babies.

it can also be playing sports. getting muddy. dirty. sweaty. 

for me, it's all these things. and more.

and on some days, especially days like this week--with all the stress over family health, starting graduate school, and work pressure that came with it--yes, it was high heels and a terribly uncomfortable but ultimately beautiful dress.

and who cares if no one understands or appreciates it besides me? that's what makes it special.

and, i suppose, pretty skillful.

i am never shaken

xxxx

today is my first day of graduate school. of papers, and cramming past midnight. of planners, binders, and textbooks with post-it notes sticking out. so begins my year of multi-tasking, juggling, rearranging to make time and space for family, full-time work, pilates, and daily phone calls to my sister.


and as nervous, overwhelmed, and anxious as i am,


i woke up this morning bathed in a holy peace. a reassurance of an ancient promise. i marvel at how the very covenants made with prophets and disciples are still very alive, real and steadfast in my shifting, vagabond life.


because my stresses are different, yes. they are technology based, fueled by the desires and responsibilities of a life lived in the digital age. but His assurances haven't moved. the same God who part the seas will clear a straight way for me. through all the murkiness, muddles, essays and exams.


so i will trust. though i see the long nights ahead of me and the worries inching toward my heart. and that trust alone will push them back into the darkness from which they came.


yes, school starts today.


but my most valuable lesson came with the sunrise.

excuse me mrs. busybody

source

it's january. and you know what that means.

nope, not resolutions. or gym memberships. or black eyed peas and collard greens.

something far more exciting and potentially debilitating than that.

a fresh, new desk calendar. with beautiful little blank boxes and 52 free weeks. black font on white stock paper. nothing fancy.

but oh how my heart swells when they are delivered around the office. in fact, i've been hoarding mine in my desk for a few months. peeking at it every now and then, itching to mark it up.

you see, i'm a planner. well, not so much a planner but a look-forward-to-er. nothing thrills me more than seeing a month filled with red ink, black smiley faces scribbled on weekend margins, and pictures representing events (i sometimes draw a legend in the bottom right corner to aid with decrypting.)

so yesterday morning i pulled it out of hiding, ripped off the unnecessary cover page, and started at january. blankly. with not one event entering my mind. at first, i was stricken with panic. what? no plans? no trips or weekend getaways or heck, deadlines?

then i breathed a sweet, soft sigh, just loud enough to lift the edge of january and reveal the bottom corner of february. because for now, for this brief second, my life is free. next month will see a trip to the coast, a dinnerboat cruise, and a trip to medieval times.

but not january. this blessed month holds no such surprises. yet.

give it a few weeks (or minutes), and i'm sure i can find something to fill the spaces. little happenings to decorate my days. to anticipate. expect. await.

but for now, january sits naked.

and i sit content.