november 24

i keep meaning to tell you:

kristen's new collection of outtake takout polaroid fortunes at violet hour photography rocks my world. love these.

we are getting a new couch, a red couch (a comfortable pullout couch for when the time comes that the guest room becomes a nursery). am thinking of making a quilt from some of anna maria's good folks to compliment the couch. haven't made (okay finished) a quilt yet. and will probably do it my way minus a pattern as i just can't seem to want to figure out a quilt pattern. all those little pieces. am thinking huge squares.

i am not a pumpkin pie person (and neither is jon), so we usually make this incredible oh my goodness easy and yummy pumpkin cake. though this year, all i want is to find a bakery that has pumpkin cookies. wish i knew a good bakery in tacoma.

speaking of pumpkin, as soon as i am ready to spend more than three minutes in the kitchen, i am going to make this pumpkin pasta recipe (via alicia and andy).

but since i am not spending any length of time in the kitchen anytime soon, jon is making the turkey this year. a smaller, turkey breast but he is still going to do it my way, which is alton's way (the best turkey recipe ever).

i hope to spend many an hour with my crochet hook over the next few days. hoping to make our christmas gifts. we are going simple and easy this year. might even try to make a hat!

had three good days without horrible nausea. and then today happened. sigh. this has been really rough going. i have found a few things that help (thank goodness and thank you!), but i have basically felt ill for weeks and weeks. it has been a bit intense.

and, i know you know this already, but i am totally pregnant. during the three days when i felt better, i kept thinking that thought repeatedly. i am totally pregnant. w.o.w. when the nausea sets in though i head back into the "just breathe in, breathe out" and "when is jonny gonna get home and rescue me" sort of repeat thinking.

i have been trying to chant every day. i love this practice. and i am thinking about how it must sound to that little baby bean.

totally wishing tomorrow involved heading to cira's for breakfast followed by walking around the farmer's market with my dad. yep. i am certain my brother will sleep in and miss out on this (he is there), but if i could, i would be there. missing my family a lot today.

november 23

 

puget sound stones . june, 2009

three minutes of s

slick, slippery, slide, soup, south, send, slough, sloth, sickly, spend, scratch, stick, stickiness, sing, sway, swinging, straight, string, smug, silly, slot, smooth, swish, starry, scary, scar, scalawag, sled, sound, scoundrel, screech, scratch, skink, skunk, slink, smell, sparkle, stink, sing, shut, shout, shy, socks, sky, shingles, spy, steep, soothe, see, sheer, shake, sigh, stones, seek.

maybe a poem will be born of these words one day.

(nablopomo how you slay me) 

november 22

  

late autumn light . from the archives, december 2008

today, i am saying yes to:

staying warm while the wind blows
possibility
reaching out
a favorite candle keeping me company
speaking gratitude
turning off the television
purple yarn becoming a christmas gift
jon making the turkey this year
letting go of the inbox yet again
writing from the gut
guitar music
stopping everything to give a hug
mint chocolate chip ice cream

november 21

toadstools in aunt honey's yard . november, 2009

five (really) good things on this quiet day:

1) my husband who made all three meals today and did laundry. yes. he is the best.

2) having time to just breathe

3) watching movies while cuddled on the couch

4) comfortable clothes that force me out of pajamas

5) more than 24 hours of no (intense) nausea

and you? what are a few really good things in your world? i would love to know.

november 20

photos from the archives.
two years ago.
a dear friend visiting.
a november day in seattle.

(thank you nablopomo for forcing me into my archives today.)

november 19

manzanita lines . september, 2009

thank you so much for your kind words (and morning sickness advice). reading all your comments here and on facebook has put a smile on my face all day long. it is a real gift to be able to share the joy...

and thank you for embracing my video. i wanted to tell you in the closest way to face to face that i could.

tonight, i am feeling a bit tired of my own words, so i want to send you to read the words of a favorite poem of mine by david whyte. the poem is "start close in," and you can find it by clicking here. (the poem appears in the far left column of this page.) i was lucky enough to hear him read this poem a few years ago.

the rhythm of his reading that night greatly influenced how i write at times and taught me about the beauty that can be found in repetition. as he read, he repeated lines so that we could really hear them, really hear how he said each word. he also shared the stories behind the poetry. if you ever have a chance to hear him, go. you simply must. 

that evening of listening to david whyte was just after a challenging few weeks in my life. the idea to "start with the step you don't want to take" pushed me gently in the way i needed to be pushed. in retrospect, i think it pulled me back to my path of listening and trusting my own inner voice. yes, go and read this poem. read it out loud. right now. to anyone who will listen but most importantly, read it to you.

(unearthers, this is also a link to the book of his poetry that i had in manzanita. this is the poem i read that first night.)

november 18 {or the day where i share some (really good) news}

things i can't help but say:

yes, i really am as tired as i look. 

goodness, i had trouble getting to the point...hope the payoff made you smile.

my hair is really really long.

love that purple wall behind me but i should really make video posts in the daylight.

(and put up artwork on said wall)

sorry i didn't call you. see the first point on this list.

thanks for visiting me in this corner of blog world.

november 17

carolina wren turns her back to me
tail feather straight up
wiggles
you better really live it
she seems to say
you better really live it
you said
when i moved into my first apartment after college
you better do all that i didn't do
i hear you
in the rustling of the wren
who looks at me
just before she whisks off
to live

*****

i hear her saying those words. i hear her in the chirping of the hummingbird wondering where the feeder is. i hear her when i close my eyes and breathe deeply. i hear her. i tell myself this when it feels like i am forgetting, when i want to hear her voice say the right thing. though, truth is, she simply didn't always have the right words. but i pretend, at least on this day. and then, when i admit i know the truth of not being able to hear her, not in the ways i want to, and admit that she might not have the words i need to here in this place right now, i remember my mother's voice earlier today. i hear my mother's voice and i hear love. and it is good. and i am blessed. and i breathe in and out and keep moving forward.