fashionably timely*.

*not.

Cuchara is a beautiful, beautiful place and I am so grateful that we were able to spend some time there. I dragged my limping camera around (more on that later, perhaps) some of the time, but most of the time was just good for watching, and listening, and reveling in good company. 

Not pictured: I climbed a sand dune that is 2% the height of Mt. Everest, but don't let that pittance fool you for one second- it was a beast. I saw a bear up close, in the wild, but it was pretty chill so we all carried on all right. I saw a snake and deer and antelope and smoke from wildfires (unfortunately) and ate fresh trout and hung out with some pretty premium toddlers, truth be told (actually that part is pictured, above).

It was good. And again, I am grateful.

the Day of Mothers post

You know I am thankful to my parents for so many things. I am grateful for the big things, the things that sound cliche when written out or said aloud, but they are really the most important things.

But I am also increasingly thankful for the little bits and pieces.

To my mom, I am thankful for:

-the introduction to yoga
-the Reading Gene (probably a little from both parents, but still- I've watched her devour many a library stack through the years)
-her teaching me to karate chop before folding. I still do it.
-her making me a cup of herbal tea and letting me watch Frasier with her one night a long time ago when I couldn't sleep (this was both my introduction to a good cup of tea and its power beyond an intended bedtime)
-all of the (probably hundreds of) walks
-her teaching my brother and me that it is perfectly acceptable to bust out a British accent even if the occasion doesn't call for it
-her drawing a picture of a women's slip for me to take to my teacher when I lost a permission slip once
-her love of a good motorcycle jaunt (which, to be fair, is majorly my dad's arena, but I love that she's usually down for it) or bicycle jaunt
-her invention of the best lunch ever when we were in Canada (related: her love of a good city market)

I feel like I'm selling her very short by ending the list (which is a mere fraction of exhaustive) there. I could go on and on. And then I could start a list of all of the other mothers I know and appreciate. Maybe I will, at some point. But for now, know that this is but a sampling of the unmatched character of my mom, to whom and for whom I am grateful, and from whom I have learned much. To put it briefly.

Cheers.

Nothing to do with anything

The Soundtrack to my Last Several Days:
Devendra Banhart's newest

Where Do I Wish I Could Have Gone?
A real live comic con. That one, specifically.

A Thousand Continuous Paper Cuts.
Is what dry hands feel like, in case you were wondering. When I was little, we tried everything to make them feel better. Hint: never Clinique's "unscented" lotion. Never.

March 6.
I usually make my brother a pie or cake for his birthday. Like on this March 6. Or this one. Or this one, even though the cake isn't pictured. He is too far away right now for that to be practical. I miss his company terribly.

A Better Note:
My Jeremy will very soon no longer be a long-term substitute, but a regular old teacher. A sigh of relief was heard 'round the house. He also recently bought me a bunch of seeds, so I can try my hand for the 39th time at herb gardening. My last efforts (with basil seeds from Rachelle) went so well and the basil leaves smelled so good that Tiberius tumbled the pot and lovingly licked them all. And that was the end of that.

Before I left for school yesterday, I ran up the attic stairs to get a picture of the constant state of snow flurry. This (naturally) doesn't do justice but there you have it: my dutiful contribution to the midwestern IT SNOWED documentation (weird yet true: this is a color photograph).

12 and 13

Twelve Things I Did in 2012. 13 days late. In 2013.

1. Moved to Iowa

2. Had quite a few visits from dear friends and family, including but not limited to a Roommate of Old (in OK) and a Grantford (in IA)

3. Acquired a brand new niece

4. Biked many miles in the woods

5. Helped my husband and brother and Casey from Craiglist move an antique piano across a vast expanse of rugged terrain in extreme heat.

6. Did not run any races for the first time in many years

7. Finished my first semester of graduate school with a decent GPA

8. Had an extremely memorable Christmas (ask me about it. it's a whole story that involves firetrucks and ambuli).

9. Took many a road trip on a limited segment of I-35 (between Iowa, Kansas, and Oklahoma)

10. Took a plane trip to Atlanta

11. Euthanized many mice for the good of medical research and still feel weird about it

12. Made my first ever of my entire life Year In Review List and ended it with a total cop-out item*.

And this would be a great place for resolutions. Or intentions. Or a To Do list for the year. I used to take these very seriously, write them down on December 31 and roll them up and slide them into a Pringles can that would be extensively taped up and packed away with the Christmas things and not opened until the next December 31. I did that for several years but I think I abandoned it in 1999, or shortly thereafter. 

So anyway. I tried to think of resolutions this year, for the first time since I dropped the Pringles can tradition. I went back and forth between really annoying ideas that could feasibly double nicely as cross-stitch pillow fodder and ideas that aimed really low, for an esteem boost. The whole ordeal annoyed me so I dropped it. No resolutions, no To Do lists. 

Except poaching an egg. I want to learn to poach an egg well, but I feel weird about having two egg posts in a row.

*I made this list a few weeks ago, when I was supposed to be studying for finals.

I know I swore off Food I Made photographs but this is a little different

This is a miniature public thank you to my dad on his birthday.

He has probably inadvertantly passed on a great many things to me (my mom has, too, naturally). One of the more trivial things I long aspired to pick up was his ability to nonchalantly throw together a plate of literally perfect scrambled eggs. Weird and potentially uninteresting yet true.

This isn't terribly signficant in the scope of things I could thank him for or mention at all. But it just occurred to me this morning.

Happy birthday to my dad, and thank you for unknowingly teaching me how to make a pretty delicious plate of food.

it was an accidental monument

For some reason this board had the same ink on it from 2009 to last Sunday. Spring 2009, when I was putting in the final throes of biochem studies and creeping round the corner to a long spring/summer/fall of job hunting. Recording my running times on the board and seeing this fellow who brought me coffee in the mornings and went on long bike rides and grilled vegetables for us in the evenings (it worked out).

I wasn't exactly attached to the writing on my white board... I just kind of forgot about it and kept moving it from place to place with me. And now I've erased it and I'm studying... the same things. Again.

I promise I'm not trying to be majestic. It was just a monument to the recent past that took me by surprise when it was unearthed. It kind of reminds me of this project... (which I'm not entirely uninterested in emulating, at least tangentially) but I'm unwilling to do an accompanying self portrait.

That's all. Be well.