Welcome to my thirties.

I celebrated my thirty-first birthday this weekend. Thirty-one has been good to me so far. Pre-birthday celebrations had me eating a brownie for dinner, and then on my birthday we went to the movies to see Greenberg, had dinner at Isabella, and then came home and had a fantastically delicious birthday ice cream cake (which reminds me, I have some left! I can have some tonight! Score!). Saturday saw me get to the tailor to have some much needed hemming done, and then we ambled down the state into Rhode Island and ended up eating on Federal Hill at Constantino's. Our meals were quite fine - rivaling anything I've eaten in the North End - and Doug and I plan to get back down there at some point to try another dining option. Or even to eat at Constantino's again. My ravioli had beets in their filling. Beets! This was one time I was happy when leaving a restaurant feeling overstuffed and sick.

And then we saw Chris and Chris and Ruby. We hung out at their place and caught up on life, really one of the highlights of my birthday celebrations. Chris and Chris always apologize for talking about Ruby a lot when we're there, but it's not like Doug and I mind. We are happy to talk about her, look at her, hold her, be around her. Look at her! You'd have to be a heartless Grinch indeed to not enjoy every second around this happy family. Chris and Chris are doing a great job at keeping Ruby happy and healthy (and awed) and leaving their warm, cheery house is always so hard. We always end up leaving later than planned. If only there were a way to make the distance a little shorter.

I'd also like to find a way to make The Curious Case of Benjamin Button a little shorter, too. It's been sitting on our TV stand for about three weeks now, waiting to be watched. I tell myself it's because I don't have two hours and forty-five minutes to devote to it, but it's probably also because I don't have the desire to watch Brad Pitt in that wrinkly old-man-baby body. Or to watch Brad Pitt at all. I admit to really liking his performance in Inglourious Basterds, and now that I think of it, he was pretty decent in the Ocean's movies, but I have a bias against him. It's because of Angie. I'm not her biggest fan at all, so I think I have turned my brain off to Brad Pitt, too. They're pretty much the same person now, anyway, right? But why do I think that? And this makes me wonder - do people think of me and Doug as the same person now, too? I know we have the same glasses, but we are different. Just ask Ruby. Doug makes Ruby coo with glee just by looking at her, and while I don't make Ruby cry, I am certainly not as entertaining as Doug. This could be a good thing, though. This means that I might be able to spend the rest of my thirties as my own person, developing my own self, and then turn into Doug once my forties hit. Something to look forward to, indeed (unlike Benjamin Button, which I go to now so slowly and reluctantly...).

Week in Review.

Some of these may seem familiar, but in reality, how new and unique are my days, especially during the week? At least I didn't take a photo of me doing laundry (though that may be coming).

Saturday, March 20:


Sunday, March 21:


Monday, March 22:


Tuesday, March 23:


Wednesday, March 24:


Thursday, March 25:


Friday, March 26:

Let the sun shine in.

How many times have I written in the past couple of weeks about the weather? Either I'm writing about how hard it's raining, or I'm writing about how fantastic the weather is. I'm like a broken record. Someone give me a new topic, please! But I haven't got a new topic yet, so let's continue with the weather theme.

Saturday was such a beautiful day. I mean, a really, really beautiful day. Doug and I got up early to enjoy as much of the day as possible. We drove down to Newport to see a couple of the mansions, and also to walk the Cliff Walk, the 3.5 mile walk along the water. Views of the ocean on one side, views of the palatial estates on the other, with bright sun shining down. Can't think of a better way to spend the day.

Doug posed on the grounds of The Elms. We really liked the grounds of this mansion; no ocean view, but the gardens were very European. And on the way to and from Newport we saw several of these: Personally, I think wind turbines are beautiful (how many times can I use that word in a blog post? Let's count.), like art, and I wish I could see more of these dotting the horizon. They spin in this very constant way, reminding me of the wings of a large bird. More of these, please!

We also spent the beautiful (what's that... ten times now?) days doing somewhat less exciting things, like grocery shopping (Wyatt's not sure he approves of the new bag, but I do), quilt-making, and fixing a couple of toilets. We could put off fixing the toilets no longer, so now the now one in the basement actually works, and the one upstairs flushes properly. (Thanks, Sasha, for all the hard work helping Doug with this!) And I could put off taking the next step in my quilt-making no longer. This project, as expected, is way more intensive than bib-making. I am trying to do it in little steps, and so this weekend I laid out the top layer in the pattern I liked, noted which square went where, and then put all the squares in a pile again to sit and wait for me to get time to do the next step, which is to start sewing them all together. Here's the top layer as it will hopefully look when done: I'm a little apprehensive about starting the next layer. With my bibs, I had so much extra material that it didn't matter if I messed one up. It was easy enough to just cut another piece and start again. I don't have extra of these t-shirts, so if I screw this up I have to somehow figure out how to either fix the mistake or... well, there is no other choice. The stakes are higher with this project, but that just means that the reward will be higher. I can't wait to see the final product, which I'm still hoping will be by summer.

I also have hope that one day I'll finish True Compass, which I've been reading for what seems like forever. I am enjoying it, and I am learning a lot, but reading a book that's over 400 pages is a real commitment for me. There are not enough hours in the day! But there's time to read now, so that's what I shall go and do.

This is your life.

I'm definitely enjoying my picture a day project. Sometimes I take my picture a little too early in the day and miss out on some fun events later in the day, and sometimes I forget to take my photo when I am experiencing a good picture a day moment, but so far I think that my photos pretty much capture a particular mood, feeling, or experience from my day. They're fun to take. And they make for easy blogging, since I don't actually have to think up any real content.

So let's continue on the new tradition and get another picture a day post out before I go clean the bathroom. Yes, on a Friday night. But my thought on that is that I'd either be watching TV, by this point probably passed out on the sofa with my mouth hanging open, or doing my chores and getting them out of the way before this wonderfully warm and sunny spring weekend. (Tomorrow's the first day of spring! Yay, spring! I'm not sad to see winter leave us.) I vote for the latter. Rubber gloves and Comet Bathroom Cleaner here I come.

Monday, March 15:


Tuesday, March 16:


Wednesday, March 17:


Thursday, March 18:


Friday, March 19:

Quack-quack.

If I were a duck, this past weekend would have been heavenly for me. But maybe not, even. Because we had three days of non-stop heavy rain and wild winds, and maybe the weather would have been too wet for even a duck. All I know is that we had no water in our basement as far as I can tell, thankfully, and the only damage we sustained (again, as far as I can tell) is one of the gutters on our garage falling off. If that's the worst of our damage from this raging storm, then so be it.

But what does one do when the weekend weather is so gross? Well, as mentioned, one hangs out with friends inside a nice, warm building, listening to the nice, soothing sounds of an orchestra. We joined these friends for dinner and a little culture, and we had a fabulous time. Have you ever seen a concert or event in the Great Hall at Faneuil Hall? It's on the second floor, above the room with all the little vendors. It's in the actual Faneuil Hall building, and it's a beautiful, intimate space. Apparently it's where new citizens are naturalized in Massachusetts, and let me tell you, I'd be proud to be an American if I were naturalized in that room.

Other than marveling at the history of Boston and reveling in a little Tchaikovsky, on a rainy weekend one does craft projects, right? Of course! So I made a little more progress on my current undertaking. I'm attempting a t-shirt quilt. I say attempting because I only know how to make two things - bibs and curtains (and even those I don't know if I make well, considering that the only two sets I made I had to cut holes into in order to remedy a mistake) - and a queen-sized quilt seems like quite the advanced sewing project. But let's throw caution to the wind and just try it. I've only got time and money and potentially a finger or two to lose, right? Bring it on.

And while you're at it, bring on the corned beef. Not only was this weekend great for crock pot cooking, but it was great for a little Irish-American cuisine. Doug and I enjoyed our St. Paddy's Day feast on Sunday. It's amazing how good corned beef can taste - so salty! So what if you have to strip each piece free of its sinewy fat before you can dip it in bright yellow mustard and chew it up. It's worth all the mess and all the hassle, because it truly is a treat. It ranks right up there with creamed dried beef in a puff pastry shell, and that's a true delicacy. I'm serious.

Life can get a little cozy when it's raining for three days straight and you have no desire to venture outside. You bond with your couch. You snuggle with your cats. You read, you eat, and you feel a little slow. The sun's back out now, though. Today was a beautiful day, and it should be beautiful all week. This is great news, because it would be terrible to have rain on your birthday, and it's my mom's birthday this week. Her 65th birthday, actually. Maybe she doesn't want you to know that, but I think she should be proud of being 65. She doesn't look 65 and she certainly doesn't act it. I've always said that if I could be like her when I'm her age then I'd be lucky indeed. And I still feel that way. Now I just have to figure out a way to properly celebrate her. I have made plans to do some celebrating with her and my sister (who is also celebrating a milestone this year) in May, but we can't wait until May to celebrate a March birthday. I got a fantastic birthday gift from MVD and Curt this past weekend and I've still got a couple of weeks to go before my birthday, so I've got to do something a little more timely for her. Happy birthday, Mom! I'll think up something good for you, I promise.

Sunshine and rain.

Today it's raining and windy. And raw and damp. And the exact opposite kind of day than last Saturday. But, good things have happened today, too, so it's not all a wash-out. We went to the gym. We found a corned beef ROUND at the grocery store (the best cut of corned beef you can get... way better than a brisket, trust me), and made plans to go to a classical concert and dinner with MVD and her man. Doug also showed me our first flowering plant after the long and cruel winter months (though it's not even technically spring yet!). I love crocuses and daffodils, the first flowers to bloom in the spring. They are such harbingers of good cheer. Babies are also harbingers of good cheer, and we welcomed another one to the family. My cousin Amy had her baby quite quickly and unexpectedly yesterday morning around 8:30am, so today we can celebrate little Baby Boy P being one day old. When I talked with Amy yesterday she said they're still thinking on the name, but did give me his stats: 6 pounds 1 ounce, 19 inches long. Amy and Mike sounded like tired, amazed, and happy parents, and congratulations to them! Today it might start to sink in that they're officially parents, and that they are starting a lifetime of adventures with their son.

And now, after a week of waiting, onto my picture a day post. Here's the week in review:

Saturday, March 6:


Sunday, March 7:


Monday, March 8:


Tuesday, March 9:


Wednesday, March 10:


Thursday, March 11:


Friday, March 12:

We like to call ourselves collectors.

This past weekend was beautiful. The weather was absolutely heaven-sent. Doug and I had no idea how much we missed the sun until we finally saw it and felt alive again. We felt so alive, in fact, that we decided to start cleaning out our garage.

If you haven't been privileged enough to go into our garage or see our garage with the door open, then you've really been missing out. Because our garage was definitely a sight to be seen. In just a little more than eighteen months we had managed to fill, just about completely fill, the garage with junk. Four shovels, three rakes, a random air compressor, several axes, a couple of lawn mowers, two coolers, some saws, lawn chairs, a broken vacuum cleaner, one of those green things that you push and it drops fertilizer, I have no idea exactly how many gnomes and garden ornaments and planters... but the real find was the cardboard. Maybe we thought that there was someday going to be a Cash for Cardboard campaign and that we'd strike it rich, but we had so much cardboard in there. I don't think we threw out a cardboard box since we moved in. All of the boxes we used for moving were in there, along with every box from everything we purchased since then. I even found a couple of shoe boxes in there. Most of the cardboard was damp and I saw more than my fair share of spiders. And some kind of little animal, likely a mouse based on the type of turds we found in several of the boxes, made himself quite the home in there this winter. We felt good about providing enough birdseed and shelter for the little creature(s) during the cold months, but we did not feel good about being junior hoarders.

So, the first, and really the only thing, we tackled was the cardboard. We ripped it into small bits and filled up our 96-gallon recyling toter. The toter is packed with cardboard, no room for anything else in there this week!, thanks to Doug's fancy footwork.That was the one day that I wished we were heavier. We probably could have packed some more in, but half of the cardboard will be recycled this week and then the other half, still sitting in our garage, but now broken into little bits to make it easier to toss into the toter, will be disposed of next week. And then we can take on the other stuff. So, if you're wondering if we need anything for our yard, like tools, or gear, or equipment, or anything like that, we might, but wait until we take inventory of what we have. I ranted and raved to Doug about not having any windshield wiper fluid a few weeks ago. How could we not have any windshield wiper fluid? What kind of responsible people were we? What kind of prepared car-owners would not have windshield wiper fluid? Well, we have it. Have a full container. But it's hard to know what we have when it's buried deep into the spider-laden garage. One more nice weekend like the one we had this weekend, though, and we'll have a full inventory all ready to go.

Picture a Day.

A co-worker and I were talking about how if we took and somehow published a picture a day it would be a great way to document our lives, to get us to stop and be more conscious of our surroundings, and to also have some great photos to share. It's not a new idea, clearly, but it's something I can get behind. I carry my camera with me in my giant suitcase every day, which is the beauty of having a tiny camera and a huge handbag, so I'd have no problem taking the photo. I'd just have to blog it each day, which is where the project would break down for me. So my alternative to the daily blog with the daily photo is the weekly blog with the daily photos. And I'd have no caption, no words to go along with the photos. Because in these cases, that one photo would represent my life, my experiences, for that day. Let's get this project started!

Wednesday, March 3:


Thursday, March 4:


Friday, March 5:


Check back in a week or so for the next round of Picture a Day. This may be one project that doesn't get old for me.

But, before I go, I have to re-post a photo of something that I saw on Moderncat this week (thanks to MVD for introducing me to this blog!). Can you believe how great this is? There are others, too. I went to DaWanda to see how many euros one of these items would set me back, and well, it's quite a bit of euros, and since I'd need three... but a girl can dream, right? I'm always impressed by the creativity out there in the world, but this was the crowning moment of the week.

Winter olympics, penguin style.

My niece, nephew, and brother-in-law participated in the Penguin Plunge in New London on Sunday. They raised money for a good cause, but they also jumped into a freezing Long Island Sound, a body of water I don’t think I’d jump into even on the hottest of days. I just stood on the shoreline in a winter coat, hat, and gloves, whining when a tiny wave hit my sneaker as I tried to capture the event on film. Frankie even went in again after the Plunge was all done. He didn’t get very wet on his first time in the water; as a matter of fact, his shirt was mostly dry and there wasn’t a drop of water on his hair. His father and sister went in all the way, though, so to make up for it (prove himself, maybe?) he re-plunged. That took guts, and his team was proud of him.


My youngest niece didn't plunge, but she did show us her fancy new smile, complete with cheesy-pouf crumbs.
She’s seven now, so she is at that age where she’s losing all of her baby teeth and getting her adult ones. I remember losing a tooth in a penne noodle at a church function. I also remember not losing a tooth and the dentist couldn’t figure it out (granted this is the very same dentist who still doesn’t wear gloves to look in your mouth, but that’s another story). The adult tooth had pushed up and split the baby tooth in half, but both halves were still attached and wouldn’t fall out. He eventually pulled them, thankfully. And to think, at one point I actually wanted to be a dentist.


On Sunday we also got to see Elvis and Bonnie, the newest members of my sister’s family’s household. Elvis is a Peruvian long-haired guinea pig that they got for $20, cage and all, from the Humane Society (support your local shelters!) and Bonnie is just a regular one, but a baby. Elvis’ hair is out of control. Apparently my sister and Maddy brush his hair, give him shampoos, and blow dry his hair. That's more than any of them do with their own hair, I'm sure - but we are all suckers for our pets in this family. There's not anything we wouldn't do for them. We do like each other, too, though, so that's a good thing.

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And then, of course, this weekend there were the Olympics. Vancouver 2010, some of the best Olympics I’ve seen. Who doesn’t get inspired by Shaun White, Apolo Anton Ohno, Joannie Rochette, Maria Reisch, Aksel Lund Svindal, and the Canadian hockey teams? You’d be a cold and callous person to not be moved by some of these triumphs.

However, as the games come to a close (they’re still not done for us! We have three more days of Olympics coverage to watch, thanks to the modern marvel of DVR), I can’t help but find my sentimentality fading a bit. I wrote a post, and another post, and even a bit of another post, about the inspiration of the Olympics, the athletes, and the Olympic spirit that I wished I could live each day, and while none of those feelings have really changed, I do have to add a dose of reality to my previous outpourings. Olympic athletes are inspiring because they can focus on one goal and see it through to the end. There were fifty Nordic skiers on Sunday competing in the 50km event, and only three can win. Some of them must know that they won’t be medal winners, or even medal contenders, but they’re out there anyway, trying their best, and trying to best their best. That’s what I find inspirational about Olympic athletes. But I also know that they’re real people. Some of them use and abuse drugs, some of them don’t take the games that seriously, some of them want to celebrate their victory with a little abandon just like any normal human being would. Some of them don’t look so great in their spandex unitards, some of them have to win so that they can make due on their many endorsement deals, some of them try to sabotage their competitors. Because the world of the Olympics is a fantastic and energizing world, but it’s also the real world, a mix of positives and negatives. And maybe it’s the mostly other-worldly qualities that make me shut my life down for two weeks every four years, but I certainly do appreciate all the this-worldly qualities that these games highlight. Thanks, Bob Costas, for helping me through yet another Olympic emotional roller-coaster. Can't wait for London.