About the Outdoors

I think that it's funny how it took me living in a city like New York to realize how much I really do like being outside. Or maybe that's just what NYC does to a girl when she's stranded here (it feels like it sometimes) without a car or a way out or a back yard. Or grass to walk in, dirt to dig in or ponds to throw stones in.

I have never longed to be outside as much as I have in the past two years. It doesn't matter what I'm doing, sitting, walking, jogging, picnicing, reading or napping-- I just want to be out where I can breathe and sit and be and feel awfully small and safely surrounded on all sides by a God so much bigger than what I think Big is.

In Austin I was almost annoying with the amount of time I "really wanted to spend outside." We ate our meals on patios each night- watching sand volleyball and sharing amazing salsa. We ate lunches on picnic tables or under covered porches and drank iced coffees while people watching in lawn chairs at Jo's on South Congress.

As nice as it was just to sit in the warmth of the car and drive and look and see pastures and neighborhoods and the gorgeous views the Hill Country has to offer- I constantly asked if we could, "just get out and walk."

We spent an entire day walking around the University of Texas campus. We strolled downtown and walked through vintage store after vintage store. We walked Sixth Street night after night, we walked through parks and along the river and laid in the grass. It was nice to be outside without being bombarded on all sides, without suffocating or feeling like I need to race to keep up.

People were on bikes everywhere, as well as on foot. I appreciate a city with a bike lane & pedestrians! And as much as I'm sure this is in part to the huge student population, overall I think it's a nudge in the right direction. You can camp, climb, cave, kayak, and canoe all within the city limits. There are parks and rivers and lakes all within a short drive and the outdoors are readily accessible. Alive and waiting to be explored.

As we drove the winding roads between Austin and Lake Travis I said so many times, "I had no idea Texas could look like this." Seriously. If I would have seen photos of the scenery and landscapes we were driving through, I would have never thought it was Texas. Gorgeous. Absolutely breathtaking views.

And, as we lay in the grass Friday afternoon in Zilker Park, hand in hand, sharing an iPod like the high school students I see each morning on the subway I felt really alive. I felt like this is what life is about. Being. Just being with someone and being.

Hill Country, Texas, USA

Last week was winter break here in the North East. Not only do schools dismiss for a Spring Break which is in mid-April, but also a winter break in February. It's the long, endless cold winter- it makes one need more breaks. It's also the reason school rolls on until the very last day in June each year.

So, last Friday, Feb. 18th, Chris headed to Texas where he spent time loving on and being loved on by his family in East Texas, until we met up in Austin late Monday evening.

Texas is a big place and even though I'm from there, I've only been to Austin a handful of times:

1. There was the 8th grade day trip to visit and tour the capital building. This was when Ann Richards was governor.

2. Sometime in my early teens my family took a long weekend trip there, as I recall. There are two things I really remember: hiking and climbing around the rocky edges of the Colorado River & eating at County Line Barbecue.

3. Needing a road-trip and to wallow in our new found freedom, my two best friends from high school, Lora and Alaina, and I drove to the UT campus when we were 18 or 19 to visit some other HS pals. From this trip I remember: visiting a friend in his co-ed dorm, finding what I remember as the best patchouli/ almond fragrance I've ever owned, and something about being scared to death of the nutria we saw on the UT campus late at night. I also remember how on our drive back home we completely missed our exit off of I-35 and didn't realize it until we were just outside Fort Worth.

4. And lastly, a long weekend with an ex-boyfriend where we did go out for some live music, have some amazing brunch and slept on a hide-a-bed where I was awaken with a start each morning by a huge bull-mastiff named Dillon.

SO.... With minimal experience in Austin, and a wealth of knowledge about Austin, Chris and I decided it'd be a wonderful place for us to check out.

And, we had a marvelous time, walking the UT campus, watching the sunset over Lake Travis, laying in Zilker Park, vintage clothing shopping, eating authentic barbecue and Tex-Mex and visiting the Whole Foods mecca.

I think I'll dedicate my blog entries this week to our experiences there, because truly, we were impacted on so many levels.

It's a good city. It's good living: Austin Texas. It feels right.

Nostalgia

I really love this picture, and I'm not sure why. Sometimes art/ things/ experiences evoke emotion in us and we can't really put into words what exactly it is that we're feeling. Perhaps it brings to mind a memory of a person or a place or a scent or a funny story or a song.

For instance, I know I took this photo in Paris France on my honeymoon in October, 2006- which was wonderful in and of itself. Marriage, honeymooning, Paris! I like the multiple windows in the image, especially the odd circle window- complete with tiny shutters to fit, lace drapes and a window box. I'm sure a pizza-shaped slice of the window is left open during warmer months. I like the florescent light that hangs above the womens shoe store on the street level. The French language on signs that I can't even read but I like nonetheless.

I think that it's all that is unseen that I like so much in this image. All that is unknown, and all the hidden possibilities. I can imagine it all, pretend, make-up what has happened and will happen in this one tiny section somewhere in Paris.

...

This morning I was listening to my Valentines Day playlist on my iPod. This was Chris's gift to me a couple years ago. I found a new playlist on my iPod with songs like, Fly Me to the Moon, You are so Beautiful to Me, and jazz standards and ballads sung by Frank Sinatra. My hubby is a romantic through and through. I'm lucky ladies, I know... So, listening to these songs- however charming and endearing from my husband- also made me think of my Grandad and his love of big band music.

Valentines Day is cheesy, I know- and I agree that most people are spending ridiculous amounts of money on bad chocolate, whatever cards are left on the shelves at Hallmark, and oversized stuffed animals (don't even get me started!). But I don't think it's bad to set aside a day just to reminisce a little. I think that is what Chris and I do so often on days like our anniversary(s) and Valentines Day; we remember when. Thinking back and telling the stories of "... and then you said..." and "no, no that was not me, you were the one who..." Laughing. Really laughing, hard belly laughs that leave tears in the corners of my eyes. Just the two of us, talking and laughing and sharing side-by-side time.

My boss told me this morning how he went out yesterday afternoon and bought two cards for his wife, one for him to give her and one for his daughter to sign for her. Only when his eight-year-old daughter announced "But dad, tomorrow's not mom's birthday" did he realize that yes, indeed, he had bought birthday cards.

I put chocolates out at the reception desk in a small glass dish: individually wrapped hershey's and peppermint patties and Dove promises. And I think I spared many a fellow the embarrassment of not doing anything today, or at least wishing their lady a "Happy Valentines Day." As men dug through the candies I was asked, "What's the special occasion?" Followed by a quick, "Oh no..."

....

To avoid overly crowded restaurants, prefix menus, bad service and mediocre dishes plated up with a side of high prices we are cooking at home tonight: Lamb loin chops, roasted Brussels sprouts, and mashed potatoes. After dinner we'll share a dessert from Black Hound Bakery that Chris picked up on his way home from work.

This place has the most complex sweets, absolutely gorgeous & everything taste exquisite. "Surprise me," I said. "Pick out something we can share." This means it will not be cheesecake or peanut butter (Chris's go-to options) or coconut, ooie-gooie-chocolate-fudgey or spice-cake-esk (my favorites) but something in-between: raspberry, apricot laced, lemon-layered, caramel, hazel-nut, mouse-like.... Not that I've ever turned away anything sweet!

(not quite) Summer in the city

Or Spring...

Or temperatures in the 40's or 50's ...

Some sunshine...

I just wanna go outside.

Submerged in Media...

Well, I was not successful abstaining from media for four days. Heck, I didn't even make it 48 hours. In all honesty I think I spent more time with TV/ music/ iPod/ Angry Birds than I would during any "regular" 24-hour time period. I will not make excuses, because in all reality the circumstances I found myself in should have urged me toward silence, solitude, and reflection- instead of driving me away from it. Nonetheless, I reacted as I did. Because...

Friday, after getting off work Chris left to go camping. Yes, in the wind and rain and snow and subfreezing temperature. (This is not what my blog is about- but it is a good story.) He didn't return until around 4:00pm Sunday afternoon, leaving me home alone for the entire weekend.

I do not mind being home alone. (However, knowing Chris was sleeping under a tarp in a lean-to somewhere off the Appalachian Trail sort of left me feeling a bit uneasy. And when he told me, "I'm turning my cell phone off until I leave camp" I could only reply, "Okay. I won't call the search unit or freak out until Monday morning." What's a girl to do?

Alone. In an apartment on a rainy, cold, dreary weekend?

Write of course! And read. And journal. And meditate. And think about any and everything!

Well, maybe that's what I should have done. And I did do all of those things, but I couldn't lasso my emotions and anxiety well enough to turn off the sound completely. Not while I was alone, without Chris. It had been less than one week since my complete collapse and honestly I didn't feel strong enough to stare down those monsters for hours at a time. And I know I can't but God can in me. And I know that if I'm worrying or fearful then I'm not living in the moment. But... nonetheless, it's a scary place to be and well, I just don't think this was the time.

I think writing can be very therapeutic and I have found it necessary to just "get it out" sometimes. And quite often in my writing things come out and reveal themselves that I didn't even know existed before. It is truly a way to process.

But you have to be ready for whatever may appear. I didn't want to go there yet-- all the way, become susceptible to the weeping and heartache and truth that could hurt. Not that I'm believing lies, well, it's just alot to face. It's alot for one little me. So, I'm chewing on bite sized pieces and one day I'll be able to write it all down.

But this weekend, in-between breaking off bite sized chunks, I listened to my new Brooke Fraser CD, Flags and worshiped through that. I ran, I cooked, I had lunch with a friend and coffee with another friend and good heart-to-heart life talks. I returned my library books and finished skimming my Runner's World magazine. I did a good thorough cleaning of my stove top, it was caked with crusty oatmeal bits, olive oil splats, bits of ground turkey and pieces of tomato. And I talked to my middle sister (Ah, the middle child life! And I hardly ever mention her... Did you know I had a middle sister? Love you Chrissy- XO) for almost two hours on the phone.

And, I'll admit I watched the entire third season of Sex and The City: disk one Friday night, disk two Saturday night. And while I'm being honest, I'll go ahead and admit that I own this. It's funny because, so often when I think about the show Sex and the City, or Sexual City as a friend of mine calls it, I think of how one of my best friend's says of the show, "it is not a show that ladies should watch." She would hide her DVD's when her family would visit. Like we use to do with our wine.

Just a lil' somthin' - ie: Thank You, God for the Sunshine!

Forty degrees never felt so good to me as it did this morning walking to the subway. It was if the clouds parted just for me, just for fifteen minutes of sunshine. I know rain is in the forecast all day today, and then it's supposed to be below freezing the entire remainder of the week, but this morning it was lovely. And when I heard the birds singing I realized it had been a long, long time since I had heard the sound. I think they too, may find it easier to have a cheery disposition on sunny days!

In addition to sunshine and birds I looked into windows of Le Pain Quotidien in my neighborhood or Le Pan as I call it- and I loved seeing people sitting and drinking coffee out of huge white ceramic mugs and eating things like soft boiled eggs and smoked salmon. The communal table was beautiful- all wooden and bare, unfinished. In the window by the counter turnovers and muffins boldly boast with glittery crumbles of sugar on top. Croissants and hard rolls and things with apple and plum and ginger were arranged in baskets and bowls and at varying heights- so lovely. Bread never looked so enticing as it does in this storefront window during the bitter cold days of winter.

I also saw a Boxer named Lucy out for a walk with her purple doggie booties on. (I only know this was her name because her owner commanded, "Come on Lucy. Come on girl.") It reminded me of my parent's Boxer Marley. Although Marley seems to bounce more and smiles when she meets someone for the first time. Lucy was more meditative, introverted and if I could ask her, I'm sure she'd tell me the glass was half empty. It may have something to do with Marley being raised, mostly, around an adolescent boy, but I think New York City living could be beating Lucy down.

And on the train I read from Madeleine L'engle's Walking on Water. This is an amazing book which discusses Christian art and how God speaks through art. I highly recommend it, even though I'm still in the first chapter.

So far she's discussed topics that I've found fascinating and controversial (especially considering her age/ upbringing/ that the book was first published in 1980) such as:

• God's ability to speak to us through "non-Christian" art/ artist (and her loathing of the term "Christian Artists...."
• The importance of keeping language alive- The King James Bible, Shakespeare and The Book of Common Prayer. How so much is lost in translation & when we dumb-down what is written, for the everyday man, we loose so much
• How being still and being present are necessary in order to hear & be used
• That we don't have to understand in order to obey
• That if you feel you are an artists and think that you might die without your creative outlet- your art- then you are. And that it's not the artists choice, but the art's itself, when it should be born.

It's a really, really great read!

From the book: "As Emmanuel, Cardinal Suhard says, "To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda, nor even in stirring people up, but in being a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not exist."

Super Bowl Cooking

Recipe Number 1:

Chocolate Butterscotch Chex Mix

I seriously made this one up on my own because:

1: there were so many versions of a sweet/ dessert-like Chex Party mix that I figured making one up on my own would not be a bad idea

2: there were no white chocolate chips or almond bark or anything White Chocolate (I even looked for Hershey's Hugs) to be found at C-Town at 6:00pm Saturday night. Well, there were Ghiradelli chocolate bars at $3.99 for 4 ounces, and considering I needed 12 ounces... I decided to get creative.

There is no recipe.

But what I did went something like this:

Rice Chex cereal (I have no idea how much I used. And I chose this over Crispix because it was on sale)

Mini Marshmallows

Peanuts

Pretzel squares - butter flavor (again, no pretzel sticks to be found...) But those buttery tasting pretzels are delish!

Chocolate covered raisins

Hershey's chocolate bar and.. (drum roll please)

Butterscotch Morsels

So, I melted some butterscotch, poured it on a little of this and a little of that.

Then, I did the same with the chocolate. No rhyme or reason. But I think it went over pretty well at the Super Bowl party. The one thing I hate about making stuff like this is now I have 1/2 a can of peanuts, 1/2 a bag of marshmallows, some Chex cereal.... Just sitting there in my pantry.

Recipe Number 2:

This recipe was VERY popular.
I found it here. Although they are called Sausage Cheesy Muffins, I call them Sausage Cheese Biscuits. The only complaint I got was that I didn't make enough so that we could leave some at home for Chris to nosh on all week.

And by the way, prior to making this recipe, I had no idea that there was even such a thing as Campbell's Cheddar Cheese Soup!? What??

I can't imagine what one would ever use such a food item for, besides these terribly addictive biscuits.

Too much time suckage.

On my friends blog this morning, I read that she was doing a social fast. A media cleanse. Setting aside a period of time to NOT give into the master of creativity suckage known as The Internet.

So, based on her recommendation & following her lead, I too will not be surfing websites all day. I will not bounce back and forth from site to site.

THE RULES:

If you work through the internet - meaning FOR PAY - allot the necessary time needed to check and respond to work email. Work through the internet... not so much! But I do just sit behind a computer all day long. I tend to check my email all day & surf the web when I'm not busy actually "working." - My work is to sit here, answer phones and do whatever else might be needed to be done when called upon (binding, typing minutes, sorting the mail... etc. etc.) So, my goal for the remainder of the work week is to check my email first thing in the morning, then once after lunch, then at home after dinner. Respond as necessary and not read all the email subscriptions I get on on a daily basis.

If email is vital to your work as a writer, allot the necessary time. For instance, I am expecting some pages/responses from my critique partners. Email is not a vital part of my work as a writer, BUT, over the next couple of days, I may write some pretty long emails. Otherwise, my energies will be spent, well, just writing. Writing on my blog, probably, and writing some stories that are way overdue. My mind is pregnant with ideas.

NO blogging, reading other blogs, surfing the internet, twittering, facebooking, stumbling upon, digging, gchatting, yahoo talking, AIMing, iChatting, liking, updating books on Goodreads, hating, crying, whining, eating too much ice cream. (Because that's bad for you.) I will blog- cause that is what I do! But, I will not check Facebook, read Blogs, shop on Amazon, read the news online or spend hour upon hour here at work, looking up recipes, or reading about womens health or new ways to tone your triceps, or which running shoes are best, or signing up for races or scrolling through kayak looking of the cheapest tickets to anywhere- just to get away. I will respond to texts on my phone, but that's about it.

9:00AM Thursday, Feb. 3rd- 9:00AM Monday, Feb. 7th. - 48 hour fast... Please, I'm going all in!

I need to spend some time with my thoughts. Perspective. Dreams. Goals. Typing out prayers........... sigh. And reading when I'm at home this weekend. Although, usually on the weekends I hardly ever get on the computer. And we no longer have cable TV.... so that really isn't an issue for me. (Although, I do have plans to watch the Super Bowl- simply to hang out and be with friends.) I do need to dive head first into a new Fiction novel. I spent ALOT of time reading memoir, biographies, and self-help books. I deserve some fiction, an escape, a break from "learning."

Purgatory

Okay, I just realized that, in addition to four bleak, gray, ugly New York City snow pictures, I have also posted two black and white photos within the past month!

This has got to stop. (Thus the bright yellow tree. Quebec City, Canada- 2009) I find it quite odd that even in my choice of photos (and my writing too, no doubt) I've become bleak and quite depressing.

In some ways I feel that is what winter is all about. We move slower. We are stuck indoors with nothing but time to think. We gain a few pounds eating warm, hearty meals of steel-cut oats, butternut squash, parsnips and lentil based stews. We hardly get to walk around. I am so tired of going from tiny apartment (I realize my is quite nicely sized in comparison to most) to tiny and cramped subway to the 19th floor of one building where I sit under florescent lights. Just to break up the treadmill jogs and slip-sliding walks to and from the subway, I do circles in Grand Central Station on my lunch hour, like the white haired retired women in shopping malls in the Midwest.

Seasons happen for a reason. Resting is necessary. Everything comes in waves, in the rise and fall, in the pull and release, but in this season, I feel as if I'm about to unraveled. How much more of this can I (we) take?

From The Psalms:

My heart shudders within me;
terrors of death sweep over me.

Fear and trembling grip me;
horror has overwhelmed me.

I said, "If only I had wings like a dove!
I would fly away and find rest.

How far away I would flee;
I would stay in the wilderness.

I would hurry to my shelter
from the raging wind and the storm. Psalm 55

BUT I keep standing on the promise:

He brought me out into a spacious place;
he rescued me because he delighted in me. Psalm 18

I really am doing okay, and I'm hoping this spacious place that he's going to take me to will look alot like the Outer Banks of North Carolina, or Scottsdale Arizona, or San Diego, or even Austin, Texas. These Northeast winters are harsh and I only realize it when I'm completely driven down to a stub; a hallowed out hull of the vibrant, BIG personality I usually am.

This happened Sunday night when I had a panicked induced, anxiety fed, full on attack of my sanity. For two hours I shivered, vomited, and spent plenty of time "on the can." Worry at it's fullest. Irrational, inconsolable fear which is not something that happens to me all that often. And this was by far the worst feeling I've felt in a long time. I think winter in a place like this can do that to you, and it's not just the grayness, and it's not just the five foot snow drifts, and it's not just the lack of Vitamin D or even the days on end of below freezing temperatures.

But I feel stuck here, on this island, within these four miles. I am caught underground between home and work. I'm forever waiting on Spring. I'm wondering where we'll live when our lease is up. I'm seeking direction for jobs and families and homes and futures. And it's not Chris and it's not me. We are so happy together. We are blessed beyond measure and know it and are so grateful, but this season just sucks! It's literary sucking the life out of us.