Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before–more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.
Charles Dickens
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To live in a city is to live the life that it was built for, to adapt to its schedule and rhythms, to move within the transit layout made for you during the morning and evening rush, winding through the crowds of fellow commuters. To live in a city is to consume its offerings. To eat at its restaurants. To drink at its bars. To shop at its stores. To pay its sales taxes. To give a dollar to its homeless.
To live in a city is to take part in and to propagate its impossible systems. To wake up. To go to work in the morning. It is also to take pleasure in those systems because, otherwise, who could repeat the same routines, year in, year out?
Ling Ma
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Happy Winter Days! We are blissfully over a very localized blizzard (What do you mean there is no snow on the West side?!) and horrible deep freeze, lasting over a week and preventing any serious Juniper walks. On one occasion, we were out shoveling, and she had to wee, so she bounded out in her usual happy fashion only to realize the subzero temperatures by walking on her hind legs to spare her front paws from freezing. How is that for funny and sad in one gesture?
Here’s a hoot and holler for my best batch of marmalade, ever! As you hopefully can see, I used orange – blood and navel, lemon, and grapefruit, each of which is discernible, a perfectly balanced medley. I also added slivers of zest, as I only wanted the pith from half of the fruits. Good gracious – the color, the texture, the flavor. I am seriously in love with it. Greg is, too.
Costco had giant jars of nacho cheese at a very nice low, low price, so, of course, this nacho lover had to bring some home. I dolled it up with chipotles and pureed beans, this bit of salsa, and, of course, chopped slices of pickled jalapenos, for the perfect distribution of flavor in every bite. Happiness and memories of paper boats with light bulb warmed chips, layers of glorious glop, and fingers crossed for a generous spoonful of peppers when catching a movie at the Westminster Mall as a whipper-snapping teen.
I have really refined my soap-making these past few years, narrowing down my favorite scents and oil blends, even creating a most fabulous shampoo. Those above even have prickly pear juice from our own fruits, which makes for super nourishing bars. I’ve also taken to adding zinc oxide to both for all the skin and hair benefits (scroll down to Table 1 and take note of topical uses).
Further proof that everything in life is a work in progress, I added a little too much zinc to the standard soap, and it leaves a thin film on the bars in between uses. We’ll see if I can make it disappear, peeps!
Last look and a link to very fine listen of my favorite Thin Lizzy song…
Hello from a couple of nerdy introverts celebrating thirty-four years since our first date! We took full advantage of Superbowlers watching football, went out on the town in the mid-afternoon to little traffic and even fewer people in restaurants. Our view was nice and the food unremarkable, but it was so fun to ponder how this length of time is both magical and quite unreal. We occupy the same bodies, yet we are not the same people! In more ways than I can count, I thank goodness for this. How much more measured, mature, insightful, and strong we have become. How much more in love, in friendship, in goofiness, and laughter. Here’s to thirty-four more, which is not actually impossible (we’d be 87).
I baked a cake to celebrate and lit that candle for our own good favor!
The icing on the cake of our day was a literal float – note Greg’s look of surprise at his buoyancy! We spent an hour in what is probably most akin to a blissful day on the Dead Sea, minus any fear of sunburn, silently bobbing away our worries, aches, and pains. It was weird, as the volume of salt makes it feel a little slimy, and fun because you absolutely do NOT sink. I highly recommend it.
It was still dark out still snowing
You were still here still asleep
When the leaves came out
Their shadows came out too
I can’t remember the summer
I can’t remember your voice
But it is still dark out still snowing
You are still here
Franz Wright
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My Grandma Tess made the roses! They are copper and very delicately painted.
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