Yesterday was not perfect. But:
1. Morning shower. So. Nice. And. Warm on my muscles aching just enough from Sunday's climbing.
2. A visiting teacher who wants to start a science program at her school. She was really nice, and I got to talk about my job. I love my job.
3. First grade lesson went fantastically. They were really experimenting, really "doing science". And they were so engaged in it - so focused!
4. Caught the sun setting over the ocean, a huge red ball of fire.
5. I took a crepuscular walk on the beach, about a mile down before turning around, after sunset. It was absolutely beautiful, with the waves crashing and the red sky reflected in the water. I had re-learned about the different kinds of twilight the other day and enjoyed really seeing the difference between the sky right at sunset, at the end of civil twilight, and at the end of nautical twilight. (By the end of astronomical twilight, I was back in my car and halfway home.)
6. I made tapioca pudding, which is always a comfort food, and A. came over to share it.
7. Time Enough At Last - old-school Twilight Zone.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
In one celebrated example, Dr. Robert Emmons, of the University of California at Davis, asked college students to keep a gratitude journal--over ten weeks, the undergrads listed five things that had happened in the last week which they were thankful for. The results were surprisingly powerful--the students who kept the gratitude journal were 25% happier, more optimistic about the future, and got sick less often during the controlled trial. They even got more exercise... Their friends had noticed them being more helpful and emotionally supportive.
-Po Bronson & Ashley Merryman, NurtureShock
Thus:
1. Toast this morning - made by Mike, covered in strawberry-rhubarb jam.
2. The pleasingly short drive to work from Mike's place, especially because I've figured out the quicker route. (Take 18th past Castro before going north.)
3. Boat building with fourth grade was mellow. My oil spill lesson with first grade was as successful as it had been Monday.
4. K. got her first med school acceptance!
5. A surprise call from M. while I was cooking dinner - and the good news that she's getting over being sick.
6. Spicy tomato soup with D.: good dinner for a cold fall night, good friend for anytime.
7. Eating chocolate ice cream and drinking peppermint tea while reading NurtureShock, alternating hot and cold, creamy chocolate and the sharp taste of mint.
-Po Bronson & Ashley Merryman, NurtureShock
Thus:
1. Toast this morning - made by Mike, covered in strawberry-rhubarb jam.
2. The pleasingly short drive to work from Mike's place, especially because I've figured out the quicker route. (Take 18th past Castro before going north.)
3. Boat building with fourth grade was mellow. My oil spill lesson with first grade was as successful as it had been Monday.
4. K. got her first med school acceptance!
5. A surprise call from M. while I was cooking dinner - and the good news that she's getting over being sick.
6. Spicy tomato soup with D.: good dinner for a cold fall night, good friend for anytime.
7. Eating chocolate ice cream and drinking peppermint tea while reading NurtureShock, alternating hot and cold, creamy chocolate and the sharp taste of mint.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
There are many glorious things I have failed to write about... life has been a bit of a whirlwind for the past week.
Yesterday was pretty excellent, though!
1. I began listening to Peter Pan on my way to work. I had never actually read the original, though of course I've been exposed to the story secondhand many times - Disney's cartoon, Hook, Finding Neverland, and so on and so on. The book itself is just charming. I love the way Barrie writes about the parents, with childlike misconception-fantasy. The description of Wendy's mother:
3. C., who is in town for the week! She is great for adventuring.
4. Bubble tea. Mmm, chewy tapioca bubbles.
5. Adventuring with C.: we drove down the curvy part of Lombard Street and looked out over the foggy city below. Then we wandered around the piers, visited the sea lions, found the fishermen's chapel, and looked at boats.
6. Back home, we played Bananagrams, which is essentially speed Scrabble. Words are fun.
7. Sleeping under my wonderful fluffy duvet again, warm and cozy.
Yesterday was pretty excellent, though!
1. I began listening to Peter Pan on my way to work. I had never actually read the original, though of course I've been exposed to the story secondhand many times - Disney's cartoon, Hook, Finding Neverland, and so on and so on. The book itself is just charming. I love the way Barrie writes about the parents, with childlike misconception-fantasy. The description of Wendy's mother:
She was a lovely lady, with a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth. Her romantic mind was like the tiny boxes, one within the other, that come from the puzzling East, however many you discover there is always one more; and her sweet mocking mouth had one kiss on it that Wendy could never get, though there is was, perfectly conspicuous in the right-hand corner.2. The discovery that Green Apple Bookstore is much closer to places I go every day than I realized. This is possibly the most wonderful used & new bookstore I've ever seen. My first visit there I found used copies of two volumes of poetry I had been seeking for over three years.
3. C., who is in town for the week! She is great for adventuring.
4. Bubble tea. Mmm, chewy tapioca bubbles.
5. Adventuring with C.: we drove down the curvy part of Lombard Street and looked out over the foggy city below. Then we wandered around the piers, visited the sea lions, found the fishermen's chapel, and looked at boats.
6. Back home, we played Bananagrams, which is essentially speed Scrabble. Words are fun.
7. Sleeping under my wonderful fluffy duvet again, warm and cozy.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
home for the holidays
Happy New Year!
1. Cross-country skiing this morning, alone, in the sunshine. It's always a bit of a thrill to ski down the street (the street! where people drive!) to the park, and today was a beautiful, perfect day for a jaunt. The sun was out and sparkling on the snow, which was hardly touched. I thought again of Hobbes and his big white sheet of paper as my skis cut a track across smooth fields and along wooded paths. I saw very few people - a few dog-walkers and a car or two - and really felt almost alone in the whole wonderful world. As I shuffled along the path overlooking the big brown river, bells chimed the hour from a church across the gorge. When I reached the pond, I found it frozen over except for a small dark spot at one end, which was full of mallards quacking at each other and splashing in the icy water. Nearby, a flock of seagulls all sat on the ice in a clump, all facing southeast, a trail of seagull footprints leading from the hole in the ice. I stood and watched the birds for a while, feeling grateful to have another kind of home than an ice-cold pond. When I grew cold enough that I had to re-zip my jacket, I turned and headed back to that home through the wonderful white.
2. My neighbor's cheerful greeting on my return, and his obvious good mood even though he was shoveling his driveway again. It's that kind of beautiful day. And he's that kind of happy guy. He's lived next door since I was four or five, and has been a fantastic friend and neighbor for all those years. I was lucky to have such great neighbors growing up.
3. A very late lunch of dim sum with my mother... crispy scallion pancakes, salty edamame, gooey crab rangoon, springy spring rolls. Most of the restaurants in town are closed for New Year's Day, but not this one! When the waitress brought the check, she also brought one of those roll-up wall calendars, with a cartoony bovine to let us know that 2009 is the year of the ox.
4. I had coffee with a college friend who now lives in Japan, teaching English to high school students. I don't think I'd seen her since she graduated almost three years ago, but we chatted away in the Barnes & Nobel cafe (sadly, awesome independent coffee shops are also closed for the holiday) as though nowhere near that time had passed. It was great to see her and to hear about teaching in a very different setting. And, so sweetly of her...
5. ...she brought me a present from Japan: Moomin trinkets! Stickers of Moomintroll and Snufkin, a pencil case bedecked with Little My, and, incredibly, Moomintroll chopsticks! I was speechless. I have loved these books since childhood, though they are not at all well-known in the US. It is in their native Finland and in Japan that the characters were popularly received. When I was in Finland I bought many Moomin items... but I never saw chopsticks!
6. Finally watching Little Miss Sunshine. I now agree with all the people who recommended it to me. It was great.
7. The lights on the Christmas tree, blinking and sparkling. I love to sit on the sofa this time of year and watch the patterns the lights make on the ceiling, pink and green and blue. The long needles of the white pine make fantastic shadows, and the lights glint on all the ornaments that we have collected over the years. Those ornaments feel like old friends; so many call up stories and memories. There is no place like home.
1. Cross-country skiing this morning, alone, in the sunshine. It's always a bit of a thrill to ski down the street (the street! where people drive!) to the park, and today was a beautiful, perfect day for a jaunt. The sun was out and sparkling on the snow, which was hardly touched. I thought again of Hobbes and his big white sheet of paper as my skis cut a track across smooth fields and along wooded paths. I saw very few people - a few dog-walkers and a car or two - and really felt almost alone in the whole wonderful world. As I shuffled along the path overlooking the big brown river, bells chimed the hour from a church across the gorge. When I reached the pond, I found it frozen over except for a small dark spot at one end, which was full of mallards quacking at each other and splashing in the icy water. Nearby, a flock of seagulls all sat on the ice in a clump, all facing southeast, a trail of seagull footprints leading from the hole in the ice. I stood and watched the birds for a while, feeling grateful to have another kind of home than an ice-cold pond. When I grew cold enough that I had to re-zip my jacket, I turned and headed back to that home through the wonderful white.
2. My neighbor's cheerful greeting on my return, and his obvious good mood even though he was shoveling his driveway again. It's that kind of beautiful day. And he's that kind of happy guy. He's lived next door since I was four or five, and has been a fantastic friend and neighbor for all those years. I was lucky to have such great neighbors growing up.
3. A very late lunch of dim sum with my mother... crispy scallion pancakes, salty edamame, gooey crab rangoon, springy spring rolls. Most of the restaurants in town are closed for New Year's Day, but not this one! When the waitress brought the check, she also brought one of those roll-up wall calendars, with a cartoony bovine to let us know that 2009 is the year of the ox.
4. I had coffee with a college friend who now lives in Japan, teaching English to high school students. I don't think I'd seen her since she graduated almost three years ago, but we chatted away in the Barnes & Nobel cafe (sadly, awesome independent coffee shops are also closed for the holiday) as though nowhere near that time had passed. It was great to see her and to hear about teaching in a very different setting. And, so sweetly of her...
5. ...she brought me a present from Japan: Moomin trinkets! Stickers of Moomintroll and Snufkin, a pencil case bedecked with Little My, and, incredibly, Moomintroll chopsticks! I was speechless. I have loved these books since childhood, though they are not at all well-known in the US. It is in their native Finland and in Japan that the characters were popularly received. When I was in Finland I bought many Moomin items... but I never saw chopsticks!
6. Finally watching Little Miss Sunshine. I now agree with all the people who recommended it to me. It was great.
7. The lights on the Christmas tree, blinking and sparkling. I love to sit on the sofa this time of year and watch the patterns the lights make on the ceiling, pink and green and blue. The long needles of the white pine make fantastic shadows, and the lights glint on all the ornaments that we have collected over the years. Those ornaments feel like old friends; so many call up stories and memories. There is no place like home.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
hello, 2009!
Welcome to 2009! It's lovely over here. Let's see if I can fit today into seven...
1. Breakfast with my elementary school music teacher. I try to do this every time I'm in town, because it's one of the highlights of my visits. This man made my childhood more joyful. He was among those that taught me to love music, to love movement, to be a performer. Later, he was the man who inspired me to go into teaching myself. He still inspires me, every time we talk. I feel so happy and energized after spending time with him. This time, we talked about teaching as a career, and I feel even better about my choice to teach than I did before (and I was already awfully content!).
2. A walk in the snow, which had piled up almost a foot and was still falling in giant soft flakes. I had no mittens and no hat, but my coat was warm, and I wandered around the neighborhood with my hands stuffed in my pockets. Snow somehow both muffles and highlights noises - there was a soft silence broken by the crunch, crunch of the snow under my boots, and the scrape of a shovel against a driveway, and the slough of a drift crumbling on itself. The snow settled on my hair and shoulders, and even when the wind drove it into my face, I felt so happy and at home.
3. A visit to Rick's Recycled Books ("New Is Nice, Used Is A Lot Cheaper!"). The shelves in this store are almost audibly groaning under the weight of books. They're stacked precariously, several stacks deep on each shelf, from floor to just-as-high-as-you-can-reach. Although they're sorted by genre and then roughly alphabetical, there's always a sense of discovery to Rick's. I came away with three paperbacks for under six dollars total. Bliss.
4. The Capitol Steps' New Year's Eve special. None of the songs made me fall out of my chair laughing, but it lightened my spirits about politics. I'm so thankful to live in a country where we can jest about our politicians on national radio
5. The New Year's Eve contra dance! First, the people! C., who drove from the other side of the state today to get here and who waltzed with me and even swung with me to "Auld Lang Syne". P., who gave me a hug and told me about her son (who went to high school with me) and asked me all about my job. The lots of new people whose names I am already forgetting. T., who knows me as "Kramer's girlfriend" and dances very well. And the retired professor, who is best described as "eccentric" and who asks me about "that young man" and tells me to "come back to us soon", and who always tries to spin me three times.
6. The band! Great Bear Trio - my favorite contra band. (This is different from my favorite contraband.) They spice things up with nontraditional arrangements and instruments - electric guitar?! - and they are so. High. Energy. My favorite dances are when they start playing slow and gentle, elegant, graceful... then, after everyone is solid on the dance, suddenly the tempo rises. Someone gives a whoop! and we all spring into liveliness. The dance is carrying us by now; we are not thinking the steps anymore, but simply living them. The band gets wilder - feet stomping, violin bow flying, guitar pounding. Sound builds on sound. Then, then, it almost all drops away. Maybe just the guitar hammers out a single chord, again and again. Maybe the fiddle plays one pitch, rhythmically, stacattissimo. The dancers keep whirling, still keeping perfect time, and the band adds just one more sound, ever so slight. Tension builds, and builds, and we keep dancing - and then it's all there again, wilder than ever, and we're all part of this organism, this pattern, this dance. We couldn't stop now if we wanted to, and we don't want to. It's ecstatic, better than drugs. When the music crashes to an end, we collapse like marionettes whose strings have been abruptly cut. But we are grinning.
last
7. It's 2009 now. That's pretty glorious just on its own. Happy New Year!
1. Breakfast with my elementary school music teacher. I try to do this every time I'm in town, because it's one of the highlights of my visits. This man made my childhood more joyful. He was among those that taught me to love music, to love movement, to be a performer. Later, he was the man who inspired me to go into teaching myself. He still inspires me, every time we talk. I feel so happy and energized after spending time with him. This time, we talked about teaching as a career, and I feel even better about my choice to teach than I did before (and I was already awfully content!).
2. A walk in the snow, which had piled up almost a foot and was still falling in giant soft flakes. I had no mittens and no hat, but my coat was warm, and I wandered around the neighborhood with my hands stuffed in my pockets. Snow somehow both muffles and highlights noises - there was a soft silence broken by the crunch, crunch of the snow under my boots, and the scrape of a shovel against a driveway, and the slough of a drift crumbling on itself. The snow settled on my hair and shoulders, and even when the wind drove it into my face, I felt so happy and at home.
3. A visit to Rick's Recycled Books ("New Is Nice, Used Is A Lot Cheaper!"). The shelves in this store are almost audibly groaning under the weight of books. They're stacked precariously, several stacks deep on each shelf, from floor to just-as-high-as-you-can-reach. Although they're sorted by genre and then roughly alphabetical, there's always a sense of discovery to Rick's. I came away with three paperbacks for under six dollars total. Bliss.
4. The Capitol Steps' New Year's Eve special. None of the songs made me fall out of my chair laughing, but it lightened my spirits about politics. I'm so thankful to live in a country where we can jest about our politicians on national radio
5. The New Year's Eve contra dance! First, the people! C., who drove from the other side of the state today to get here and who waltzed with me and even swung with me to "Auld Lang Syne". P., who gave me a hug and told me about her son (who went to high school with me) and asked me all about my job. The lots of new people whose names I am already forgetting. T., who knows me as "Kramer's girlfriend" and dances very well. And the retired professor, who is best described as "eccentric" and who asks me about "that young man" and tells me to "come back to us soon", and who always tries to spin me three times.
6. The band! Great Bear Trio - my favorite contra band. (This is different from my favorite contraband.) They spice things up with nontraditional arrangements and instruments - electric guitar?! - and they are so. High. Energy. My favorite dances are when they start playing slow and gentle, elegant, graceful... then, after everyone is solid on the dance, suddenly the tempo rises. Someone gives a whoop! and we all spring into liveliness. The dance is carrying us by now; we are not thinking the steps anymore, but simply living them. The band gets wilder - feet stomping, violin bow flying, guitar pounding. Sound builds on sound. Then, then, it almost all drops away. Maybe just the guitar hammers out a single chord, again and again. Maybe the fiddle plays one pitch, rhythmically, stacattissimo. The dancers keep whirling, still keeping perfect time, and the band adds just one more sound, ever so slight. Tension builds, and builds, and we keep dancing - and then it's all there again, wilder than ever, and we're all part of this organism, this pattern, this dance. We couldn't stop now if we wanted to, and we don't want to. It's ecstatic, better than drugs. When the music crashes to an end, we collapse like marionettes whose strings have been abruptly cut. But we are grinning.
last
7. It's 2009 now. That's pretty glorious just on its own. Happy New Year!
Calvin: Wow, it really snowed last night! Isn't it wonderful?
Hobbes: Everything familiar has disappeared! The world looks brand-new!
Calvin: A new year... a fresh, clean start!
Hobbes: It's like having a big white sheet of paper to draw on!
Calvin: A day full of possibilities! It's a magical world, Hobbes, ol' buddy... let's go exploring!
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
2008 is almost over
1. Lots of reading time - I didn't have any mode of transportation today, so I spent a great deal of time reading. It's more of a luxury than I was keeping in mind. I've read so much during this vacation, and it's been great.
2. Homemade artisan bread for lunch, made with the recipe from the book my sister gave me for Christmas. This recipe is ridiculously easy. I foresee much bread in my future.
3. Going to the movies with my mother tonight.
4. A nice phone conversation with an old friend, although I won't be able to see him while I'm in town this time.
5. News that a different friend will be in town for the New Year's Eve dance!
6. Plans to have breakfast tomorrow morning with a former teacher - the one who inspired me to go into teaching myself.
7. It's snowing! Right now! I didn't notice it start, but I suddenly looked up and the whole world was white.
2. Homemade artisan bread for lunch, made with the recipe from the book my sister gave me for Christmas. This recipe is ridiculously easy. I foresee much bread in my future.
3. Going to the movies with my mother tonight.
4. A nice phone conversation with an old friend, although I won't be able to see him while I'm in town this time.
5. News that a different friend will be in town for the New Year's Eve dance!
6. Plans to have breakfast tomorrow morning with a former teacher - the one who inspired me to go into teaching myself.
7. It's snowing! Right now! I didn't notice it start, but I suddenly looked up and the whole world was white.
Monday, December 29, 2008
it's nice to be home
1. Waking up all curled up in my featherbed. This is one of the things I love about coming home to my parents' house in the winter.
2. Breakfast at the bagel shop I frequented senior year of high school. They still have the same bagel I got every week - granola almond with honey almond cream cheese. Crunchy!
3. Spending the whole day with my sister - and her being as excited about this as I am.
4. Lunch at the Indian buffet with my mom and sister. We stuffed ourselves full of curries and naan and chai and other lovely things.
5. Finding black pants that fit and are comfortable and are good for wearing to work. Pants that go with everything make getting dressed in the wee hours of the dawn much easier.
6. Giant piles of filthy snow at the edges of the parking lot at the mall. I know it sounds not so glorious, but it's home. There are no piles of snow, giant and/or filthy or not, in California, and in a perverse way I miss them.
7. The noise the wind is making right now as it gusts around the house, rattling the windows and moaning through the big pine tree and making the naked maples shake. And then it is still, and the yellow streetlamp shines on the damp pavement and the snow that lingers on the curb. And then the wind again, whispering, wuthering. I hope it keeps up all night long.
(and a bonus: I just got an email from a friend I hadn't known would be in town while I'm here!)
2. Breakfast at the bagel shop I frequented senior year of high school. They still have the same bagel I got every week - granola almond with honey almond cream cheese. Crunchy!
3. Spending the whole day with my sister - and her being as excited about this as I am.
4. Lunch at the Indian buffet with my mom and sister. We stuffed ourselves full of curries and naan and chai and other lovely things.
5. Finding black pants that fit and are comfortable and are good for wearing to work. Pants that go with everything make getting dressed in the wee hours of the dawn much easier.
6. Giant piles of filthy snow at the edges of the parking lot at the mall. I know it sounds not so glorious, but it's home. There are no piles of snow, giant and/or filthy or not, in California, and in a perverse way I miss them.
7. The noise the wind is making right now as it gusts around the house, rattling the windows and moaning through the big pine tree and making the naked maples shake. And then it is still, and the yellow streetlamp shines on the damp pavement and the snow that lingers on the curb. And then the wind again, whispering, wuthering. I hope it keeps up all night long.
(and a bonus: I just got an email from a friend I hadn't known would be in town while I'm here!)
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