Weekend dispatch::joy edition

A weekend is best when it includes:
Lots of time to sit and think. Sit and talk. Sit still.
Friends. Food. Footsie.
Park tennis. (No net needed.)
Surprises. Presents. (No birthday needed.)
Salad. Cheese. Chocolate.
Hugs. Kisses. A little bit of crying.
Joy.

Bonus: a road trip. More about that tomorrow.

Enjoy. Thanks for reading.
tt

Tuesday:: some links, and some navel gazing

I don't know what time is going to show on this post, but I'm telling you: again, it's late.

We are both totally overworked, and yet completely under-employed.

Tim wears two or three different hats, jobwise. All with incredibly flexible hours (read: he works all day, until late at night), but very few benefits. Except for the invaluable benefit of being able to go to occasional lacrosse games, walk Anna to school, come home for lunch one day a week, and do what he loves to do. And the boss is very friendly.

I'm working just the one job. Our family is my job. And it's full time.

Again: incredibly flexible hours (see above), no benefits. Except for numerous hugs, the chance to nap, hearing their voices rising up through the windows on the way home from school, and the gift of being around while they are still here.

But...

Sometimes. I suspect I hide behind all this usefulness, busy-ness, neediness. How can I possibly worry about what's next for me to do with my life, while there are lunches to be made? Laundry to be folded. Cheeks to kiss.

Am I kicking up the dirt, so I don't have to look too far down the road?

::

We're up late again, putting together our new baby: Public Bookstore.

I'd like to introduce you to one of our contributors, Stephanie Dennis. I "met" Stephanie through This Joy + Ride, and loved her drawings. They are perfect for our project. But she also has wonderful paintings, which you can see here.

::

Another Stephanie, whom many of us know from 3191, has given us a glimpse into her home, here, and it's wonderful. I hope you like it, too.

::

In the house to our right, a three-week-old grandson is being put to bed, along with his two-year-old brother.

In the house to our left, our neighbors have brought home a baby girl, and a baby boy. When I saw their dad(!) leave to pick them up from the hospital today, I thought: there he goes to get his children. And I couldn't keep from crying. Tim and I just perched by the open window to hear a new-baby-cry.

It's a crazy thing we do, this child-having. This parenting. This hopeful ignoring of the inevitable.

Thankfully, we are rewarded for our stupidity with all of those hugs and kisses.

::

I've been posting all sorts of pictures over here. Go have a look, if you like.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.
tt

Friday Happiness + a gratutious self-portrait

I can not get enough of::

Anna's learning the alphabet: I've seen this all before, and yet am always in awe of a human learning something so big, so naturally. I've been trying to learn French and am an idiot. I'm sure Anna could speak several languages by now, if she just had parents who were capable.

Wraps: I am so trying not to gorge myself on bagels and brioche and homemade bread. My most dear friend brought me lunch last weekend at the gallery, and a lightbulb popped on: yes! flatbread, protein, greens! Right on.

The Library: when I'm done checking out movies and novels and cookbooks and kids books, and they hand me the "receipt", I get so embarrassed because with.out.fail. I reach for a pen to sign. Oh, right. Free. Honor system. Got it.

Online photo inspiration: I'm a novice who can not get enough of Flikr, This Joy+Ride, and a million other daily shots of visual adrenaline. I know I am not there, but they show me where I want to go.

Writing real letters: My girls spend hours a week writing to my parents, sequestered for the winter in Florida. Typed letters, hand written letters, pictures drawn, love notes scratched on bits and pieces of paper. For kids raised with computers, they have not lost the art of correspondence. Now, if their mother could just get to the post office...

This weekend: not much planned. Exactly the sort of weekend I like best.

Enjoy your weekend, too. Thanks for reading.

tt

ps: that's me with my new haircut. Hence the self-exposure. Bonjour.

The Milkweed Project

The milkweed plant dies down. Underground, however, the
roots are living and next spring, the plant will send up new shoots and
the cycle will begin anew.

(Exploring milk weed seeds; here.)

I've joined in on a collaborative art project which will bring together the work of hundreds of artists, crafters, and now, at least one mediocre-but-eager-knitter, to create what surely will be a beautiful, ethereal piece of fiber art. Learn more about it, join in, or simply follow it's progress here.

I had forgotten about it, until I received an e-mail update on the project today. It was exactly what I needed to get my head out of this February funk which is encroaching on my general outlook.

I've had this organic white cotton yarn, bought just 'cause sometime last year, waiting for the right thing to come along and save it from becoming expensive household twine. We've already used it to hang ornaments. To make stick stars. To exercise the cat.

Now it will realize the destiny it so deserves.

Seems, also, that milkweed is the perfect metaphor for finding beauty and hope in nature's slumber; this February funk.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

tt