Sunday, July 29, 2007 

just got an update on ber and berk.

i miss them.

i'm not sure what i'm going to do once the family returns and lilly no longer shares this space.

i think it's time to get a fish.

Saturday, July 28, 2007 

pre-august(ine) update

in the midst of planning my next menu... thinking of something light that suits summer's final days. i think modest proportions of the following would be a satisfying supper with a nice dry pinot noir:

Stuffed Artichokes*
Sweet Basil and Tomato Angel-Hair Pasta
Black-eyed Pea Salad with Grilled Corn and Roasted Red Pepper Vinaigrette
Roasted Portobella and Carmelized Onion on Small Ciabatta Rolls


this week has been much like a vacation. my delightful young cousin has been in town, and i've spent a great deal of time with young folk and one sweet soft-coated wheaton terrier.

i start classes in twenty-some days, i have a new abode (henceforth referred to as the villa) and i'm getting a jump on things by reading greek and some feminist theology. yes, i realize that i should be using my time reading for fun -- something tells me i might not have enough time for caputo, derrida, fiction (with the exception that i fully intend to reference the former two in papers), but i'm just too damn excited.

and am i crazy to be actually excited that i'll soon be writing papers?!?


well, i've promised to surrender my computer over to a young one so that she may determine the fate of a few Sims (2, of course). i've got to finally unpack the mounds of clean clothes that deserve to go into a chest of drawers (or is it a dresser? is there a difference?)

things are good here.

*still looking for a satisfactory recipe. anyone??? everything i can find recommends some mix of bread crumbs, lemon juice, and fresh herbs.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007 

every move is more than putting things in boxes.

this might just be the most difficult move; in the midst of anticipation, of the simple joys of settling into a new home (and a beautiful space at that), there is a deep sense of loss.

of losing that elusive thing we refer to as home.

the cats can't come with me.
the condo feels like it's been hollowed out, like i've hollowed it --me-- out.
the family's old house has been sold; a new family is moving in.

and i buy dishes and we settle into new rhythms. classes start in about a month.

the pain washes in with the gentle rhythms that remind you that life consists of change. that embedded somewhere in all of this are some crucial things: growth. the gift.

and hey, glory be: i have the internet again.

welcome to the new normal.