thoughts on living well, grocery dates + gratitude
This weekend was marked by a whole lotta “get up and go” energy. I cleaned a lot. I scrubbed. I swept. I rearranged. I folded. I tried to catch up on podcasts. I made bags of stuff for Goodwill and stacks of books to sell. I made granola that made my whole apartment smell like the inside of a spiced chocolate cake. I put it in a big, pretty jar that makes me happy. I made cupcakes for my sister and while torching the meringue on top, I lit one of the cupcake wrappers on fire.
It was eventful in lots of small ways and seemed to imbue my very arms and legs with this quivering, inspiring energy that I can’t seem to shake.
In the tradition of Joy the Baker, whose random advice alongside yet another stellar kale recipe made me smile real big, I have some thoughts zooming around my dome that I wanted to share. I’m not sure if it’s because they’re valuable or because I just drank a lot of coffee. Nothing qualifies me to give any of this as advice except that it’s advice I myself need to hear over and over and over.
Go on lots of dates. And I’m not just talking about dates with menfolk (or ladyfolk). Those are fun, don’t get me wrong; you get to dress pretty (or handsome) and get doors opened for you (or open doors?) and stuff. But I think dates are much bigger than that. Go on dates with your friends; go to dinner and order fancy cocktails and split giant plates of enchiladas with extra hot sauce. Cook at home and drink out of mason jars. Go to the park and climb trees. Go on dates with yourself, even if it’s just grocery shopping. Treat yourself to the fancy peanut butter. Use your free drink on your favorite coffee shop punch card and bring a really good book. When I look at ordinary things like this as something special, it simply makes me more aware of how loved I am and how much I love. It’s a good thing.
Recycle/upcycle/reuse/reduce. It feels so much better than just throwing stuff away. Give things another chance at life and use. Use those spare socks as dusting mitts. Don’t use the plastic produce bags at the grocery store if you don’t have to. Bring your own bags everywhere, even when the people at the mall look at you funny. You’re saving trees and air and people.
Be thankful. It’s really that simple. Be thankful. For everything. For hot coffee, for clean floors, for surprise sister hugs. Be thankful even for the awful, crappy stuff that makes you cry the kind of tears where snot runs out of your nose and you feel pathetic. Be thankful for that. This is a posture and a way of looking at life that I am doing my utmost to live into and live into well. I know so much of what I write may sound like a broken record, but I’ll say it again: gratitude is the best possible lens I know at which to look at life and really does make all the difference.
Smile at people. I walk to one of my jobs and pass a fair number of people on my way to and fro. I’ve started to intentionally smile at each person I pass, instead of staring at the sidewalk with my headphones in, convinced that everyone is going to mug me. You never know what something that simple can mean to someone else. If nothing else, it helps remind me that these people are real humans who are so very worthy of being loved and smiled at.
Listen to good music, eat more vegetables, buy less stuff. Live outwardly, love the people who deserve it the least, ask the hard questions, hug without reason. Don’t worry so much what other people think of you; it doesn’t really matter nearly as much as you think it does sometimes. (Plus you’re awesome.) Don’t speed or tailgate people when you’re driving; it’s just plain bad manners. Give yourself a break once in awhile; you’re human and screw up and it’s okay. Try new recipes, laugh really loud, wear skirts, call instead of text, invite people into your home as much as you can. Live the kind of life that fills you up to your toes.
“Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly.” – 1 Corinthians 13:13 (The Message)
to 2012 + beyond!
I’m not much for making goals.
I sincerely love making lists, yet I am absolutely, miserably terrible at lists that require more discipline that just checking things off. Making goals, writing budgets — I stink. I will write grocery lists and cleaning lists and packing lists like they are poetry of the highest order, yet when I try to organize the more serious areas of my life, the ones that I have to be accountable to, I suddenly find much better uses of my time…like Pinterest…or Facebook…or scrubbing my sink. (All of which I’ve done today, so I’m out of excuses.)
However, I read this the other day and it got me to thinking. Goal-making is supposed to be good, right? You’re supposed to make goals that you WANT to achieve, yes? In thinking about it, I think I may have stumbled upon what my problem has been in the past: I made the goals I thought I should achieve, not the ones I wanted to achieve. Therein lies a giant, giant gap! A big, stern, judgmental gap that laughs at me each year as I make goals that I have no intent of keeping.
So here are a few goals for 2012 that I have every intention of keeping! So let’s go!
1. Play around with more creativity in my clothing: My clothing default comfort zone is what I like to call “preschool yoga teacher.” Lots of muted colors, lots of long shirts, lots of leggings. Not bad, just rather boring. This year, I want to have a little more fun with how I dress. So I’ve recently gotten really into colored tights (red, yellow, aqua, navy, oh my!) and began playing around more with textures and layering different items together. I will never relinquish my deep and powerful love for cardigans, but hopefully, this year, they can have a little more fun.
2. Read more books, watch less movies: Once winter hits, there is nothing I love more than hibernating in and watching movies and backlogged seasons of TV shows. While I have no intention of giving this up, I do want to balance my media diet with more of the written word. I love to read but I tend towards thinking I should read “serious” books, which sometimes makes me not want to read. Because sometimes I want to read novels about other girls who love Jane Austen and have problems! Or sometimes I want to read foodie books! Or sometimes I like historical fiction! So lay it on me, readers. What books have you read recently and loved?
3. Live in community again: I wrote about this recently and am now in the midst of figuring out what this might look like. It may still take a few months, but I plan on entering summer 2012 with some solid action. I am really, really looking forward to cooking together, hanging out, watching movies, dance parties, and generally enjoying what it is to be hilarious, awesome ladies in our 20s.
4. Eat better: As a baker, I have a whole lot of butter, sugar, and flour in my life. It’s my job, it’s my passion, it’s the reason I have a little bit of a muffin top. I absolutely love carbs and I tend to indulge a little more than I should. It’s been too easy to do this while living alone; no one is there to ask why I think that four pieces of toast and a glass of wine is a suitable dinner. However, I really want to try balancing my tendency to scarf carbs with more vegetables and whole grains in my diet. (I’m also hoping cooking in community will help keep me accountable to this. Cassie, you hear that? TAKE AWAY MY TOASTER.)
5. Have more fun: This may sound like a no-brainer, but trust me, there are many moments where I need to kick my somewhat introverted self in the tush and demand that I go dance, go to that art show, go meet friends for a cocktail, go for a walk, even when I’m tired and feel more like going to bed at 9 p.m. like a granny. I want to take more advantage of the fact that I am young and living in an amazing city that has ample opportunities to enjoy life. So next weekend, it’s a comedy show and a birthday party; the weekend after, it’s a dance party. There will be party dresses and bright tights and photos and giggles. And what fun we shall have!
6. Write it down: It’s no secret that I love to write. I’ve never had much of a problem doing this with any frequency. But for 2012, the goal is getting back into writing with more intention. This means both here on Ye Olde Blog (hopefully bringing more recipes back!), as well as in my own personal handwritten journal. It’s a wonderful tool for becoming more diligent in prayer, in becoming a more self-aware person, and as a way to understand better how my experiences, relationships, and choices affect who I am, the way I see the world, and what can be learned from all things.
So those are my goals! I’m excited about living into these thoughts and ideas with intention and excitement. And feel free to keep me accountable and ask how these things are going.
So now what I want to know — what are some of YOUR goals for 2012?
what i dream of on cold mornings
“When the girl returned, some hours later, she carried a tray, with a cup of fragrant tea steaming on it; and a plate piled up with very hot buttered toast, cut thick, very brown on both sides, with the butter running through the holes in it in great golden drops, like honey from the honeycomb. The smell of that buttered toast simply talked to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cosy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one’s ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender, of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries.”
- Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows
When I wake up on cold mornings and every molecule in my body wants to stay hibernated under the warm blankets, drowsy and safe, the only thing that seems to lure me out of bed is a promise of a boiling kettle. Whether it’s for some fragrant coffee or a cup of tea, it helps bring my morning to life. Even when my apartment is dark and I’m still stumbling around in a post-sleep fog, to know that there is freshly made bread in the toaster, butter and jam on the counter, and three heaping spoonfuls of coffee in my French press is enough to stay awake for.
One of my favorite parts of our stay in England was eating meals together, particularly breakfast. It was usually late (us Americans blamed it on jet lag, far after the point when it could have feasibly been jet lag’s fault) and it was always simple: homemade granola, yogurt, fruit compote, and tea. But it was a moment to pause, with sleepy eyes, sweaters, and crazy morning hair; to acknowledge that the dawning day was a gift we might open and to enjoy the simple beauties of being in each other’s company and the crunch of a big spoonful of granola.
No matter how early the morning or how cold the air outside my door may be, it is always easier to greet with some hot buttered toast and a steaming cup.
[photo credit here]
inviting in community
As I’ve spent this week easing back into my home-life here in the Mitten, I’ve ruminated a fair bit on the idea of community. My time in England was a flurry of many things: food, wine, friendship, green fields, ancient stone, and dance parties. But it was also a snapshot into a culture that values a communal way of living and it definitely nudged in me a desire to live more consistently connected with those around me.
I’ve lived by myself for two and a half years now and it’s been a good and necessary season for me. But I’ve found myself aching for community lately; for roommates to connect with, to eat with, to cry with, to watch BBC shows and drink tea with. The past few days in my life have been bittersweet ones and I found myself longing for others to come alongside me, to help give me the strength to bear the answers to the questions I’ve been asking. I am so grateful for the friends whose support shines in other ways (phone calls, texts, Facebook), yet I felt keenly the absence of consistent physical presence. I don’t really know what to do about this; my friends who I would love to live with aren’t really in a place to sign leases and move in their couches. As in so many other seasons in my life, all I can do is hold this loosely and openly, trusting that He who moves in mysterious ways is still telling a redemptive and true story in my life, and hasn’t run out of ideas yet.
I find my heart brimming with wordless prayers today; a begging to simply feel close and held.
That’s all I can manage for right now.
of colored doors, thatched roofs + charms on the thames
We’ve spent a charming few days, venturing through the English countryside. We visited Winchester on Wednesday, Henley-on-Thames on Thursday, and the Cotswolds on Friday. I’ll write more later, but for now, I wanted to share some photos!
new year’s eve in the city, falafel + cognac giggles
What a place we have found ourselves in! We’ve been here for five days and I just can’t even begin to describe the surreal nature of this adventure we’re on.
We decided to seize a once-in-a-lifetime experience whilst here in Old Blighty and head into foggy London town for New Year’s Eve. We caught a train into the city around lunchtime and once we arrived at Paddington station, we hopped onto the Tube straight to Trafalgar Square, so we could wander around the National Gallery. From there, we walked over to the Strand and the West End, to find a gem of a falafel place called Gaby’s our hosts has clued us into. After stuffing ourselves with hummus, hot pita, and falafel, we started heading down into Covent Garden and after happening upon a four-floor H&M (which caused Jettie to literally gasp out loud) and passing some time (and pounds) there, we ended up at a fun bar. We sassed it up with red lips, toasted with mojitos, took silly photos, made friends with (and got flirted with by) the bartenders, and jammed to their most excellence playlist.
After celebrating with a few cocktails, we walked over to Waterloo Bridge around 9 p.m., to secure a place to stand and watch the fireworks. We were facing the London Eye and Big Ben and were in prime position to enjoy the show. We passed the time with some more dancing to the DJ the BBC had so kindly provided (Adele1 Black Eyed Peas! Elbow!) and had some truly interesting opportunities for people-watching. And, naturally, we bought light-up bunny ears. (We’re in London for New Year’s Eve! Why not?)
Once midnight hit, the fireworks show was spectacular. We all cheered together, shot off confetti poppers, and sang a rousing chorus of “Auld Lang Syne” to toast 2012. After that, we then had to buckle down and shuffle shoulder-t0-shoulder through a two hour line just to get INTO Waterloo train station, where we then had to hop on the Underground, head back to Paddington, and catch the last (3 a.m.!) train to Reading. By the time we finally walked in the door, it was 5 a.m. and both of us were barely standing.
What an experience! We spent New Year’s Day enjoying a delicious lunch with the Russells and going to St. Laurence, the church where our host, Chris, is the vicar. It’s a beautiful little church that actually used to be attended by the likes of Jane Austen. We spent a moving evening in that community and ended up back next to the fire at the house, drinking wine, eating “mezze” and enjoying our time together. Today was a brisk romp around the Berkshire countryside, followed by a magical roast lunch (roast pork! roast potatoes and parsnips! veggies! Yorkshire pudding! crackling!) and now, we’re lounging around, after a movie with the family, sipping cognac and being utterly spoiled.
What a trip! And still another week to go!
across the pond, coziness + cocktails
We have only been in England for a mere 24 hours and already, my travel companion Jettie and I agree we’ve been shown enough hospitality to have lasted for a week’s worth of holiday. We arrived in the airport to a family running towards us with open arms and since then, have enjoyed a country ramble in the woods in Wellies, two cozy rooms with heavenly beds that knocked us out (along with jet lag) for 13 hours, tea with scones, clotted cream, and jam, a delicious lunch, dinner and breakfast (potato and leek soup with bread and amazing cheese, then butternut squash risotto with a cabbage and carrot salad, and homemade granola with yoghurt and fruit compote this morning), endless hugs and cuddles from three adorable little English girls, delightful after-dinner talks with our hosts, and the best gin and tonics either of us have ever had next to a crackling fire.
We’ve decided this is simply heaven.
It’s also an amazing and humbling lesson in what it is to receive. Being a person that loves to take care of people, feed them, and generally shower people with love and affection, it’s been a huge system shock to be shown this overwhelming brand of hospitality this family is showing us. I have never felt more welcomed and loved in my life; it’s a snapshot of exactly the kind of life, home, and family I hope to grow into someday.
Enjoy these snaps; we’re off today to explore the village, walk along the Thames, and enjoy a dinner and game night with friends tonight. Tomorrow, it’s New Year’s Eve in London!
(I think “blessed” is the biggest understatement I could make right now.)
happy christmas + good winter
I have snuck away for a few quiet minutes during my family’s Christmas celebrations. My niece is napping, my dad and sister are watching some movie about aliens, and the culinary frenzy that is making Christmas dinner will be starting soon enough. For now, I am soaking in the music I haven’t been able to get enough of lately: the hauntingly beautiful tones of Bon Iver. (These are a few favorite tracks that have been on repeat. Merry Christmas to your ears!)
How appropriate that these artists, named after the French for “good winter”, have been my soundtrack lately. In the falling of winter, the slow and quiet sleep, the loss, the cold; this beautiful music is something that sustains and reminds me that in the necessary dark, there is goodness and beauty brewing.
Even though it’s the holidays, this hasn’t been an easy week to get through. A whirlwind two days where we drove for 12 hours, attended a funeral, wept and laughed together, and I stumbled back home just in time for friends to arrive on visits from D.C. and Germany. I got sick, slept for 14 hours, wore yellow tights and gold shoes, and let other people do most of the cooking (which mostly never happens). My gift to myself for Christmas has been rest. All I made was a chocolate cake and a pot of coffee.
I hope your Christmas has been happy, restful, and full of the kind of perfect love that reminds us of the quiet goodness of winter and the One who gives it.
be like the ground
The ground’s generosity takes in our compost and grows beauty. Try to be more like the ground. – Rumi
There are those moments in life when grief and sadness arrive and we are presented with a choice: consume or be consumed. Take in the hurt and the brokenness and allow it to create in us more space for grace, for understanding, for patience, for love; or allow it to swallow us whole. Sometimes, it seems to be a delicate dance between the two. Sometimes, it’s a crawling out of one and into another.
I lost my grandfather this past weekend. He had been so sick for a very long time, and in all honesty, I find myself mostly relieved and grateful that he is no longer in pain, suffering, and weak. I believe that whatever comes next, I will see him again and he will be strong and full of life, the way that I remember him as a child. Yet still, I feel the sadness in losing someone I love and in walking alongside my mother as she has lost her father. I realize that I only have one grandparent left and I feel the urge to be evermore grateful for her presence and life, her love and endless support of me.
In feeling grief, the best things I can think to do is to celebrate those things that are good; like the really, really good things. Because we’re all ticking off days here on earth, young or old, healthy or sick; we all have a numbered amount of breaths left to take, moments to laugh, meals to eat, songs to listen to, and times to kiss the people that make our insides smile. So even in loss, all I know to do is celebrate because I never want it to be “too late”.
I will listen to amazing records in the dark, under the twinkle of Christmas lights.
I will let my phone calls with my mom be rambly and let our hugs last as long as they can.
I will eat spicy noodles and try new flavors and splurge on fancy butter without feeling guilty.
I will make my grandma’s amazing Greek salad and eat lots of it, with crusty bread and creamy mushroom soup.
I will be extra grateful to sit in a gray chair in my church that I love, next to my (newly stateside) dear friend home from Spain.
I will dance. A lot. (And probably badly. But I won’t care!)
I will take more pictures and be thankful that my grandpa was the reason I have this beautiful camera in the first place.
I will sip holiday ales and laugh too loud with my friends, grateful that the miles that separate can get smaller, if only for a few hours.
I will be still and amazed as much as possible. Our world’s wonder is endless, if only we stop and listen properly once in awhile.
I will be grateful that I get to be a part of “ours” in so many ways; not mine, not yours, but ours, together.
I will wear brightly colored tights and sparkly gold shoes just because they make me happy.
I will make my niece laugh as much as I can, because the sound of her laugh makes me believe extra hard that this life is a pretty great thing.
[photo credit to my best friend here]
pop a cork + clap your hands!
I am officially done with culinary school!
That’s so weird to say. I am done. With culinary school. No more classes. I get to be a normal adult again. I don’t have to do homework again. Culinary school is now a finished space on my CV.
That is just plain wacky-crazy-go-mad to me.
Monday was my final exam and when I walked out of the door, it didn’t feel like a big sense of “OVER” to me. It just felt…complete. It felt like “Yes, this is the last step of this, but also the first step of something else.” Basically, I never stop walking and no matter where I am, I am always going somewhere interesting.
I celebrated by making a delicious dinner (that Borlotti Bean-Tomato-Fennel Sauce over Polenta!) for my guy and he showed up and surprised me with a bottle of chilled champagne and a bar of fancy extra-dark chocolate just for me. What better way to throw up your hands and say “Yeah!” than cracking open a bottle of bubbly and watching “The Holiday”? It was just perfect.
Now I’m celebrating with a visit from my best friend, Skype conversations with fabulous blog friends (hi, Aban!), coffee dates with my dear friend who shall be my London companion in just two short weeks (!), and just a lot of time spent cooking and crafting Christmas gifts that make my home smell and taste magical.
Speaking of London, I’m not even sure I mentioned that to you out there on the interwebs! As a celebratory trip, my friend Jettie and I are going to London for about two weeks, right after Christmas through the first part of January. As I’ve finished culinary school and she’s wrapped up her masters’ degree, we figured it was time to party hardy with our favourite isle of people — you know, drink pints, fake British accents, prance around. So that we will! I am so excited and just keep stopping myself these past few weeks, thinking “Wait, WHAT?! I’m GOING?! I need to PACK?! WHAT!”
There is so much to celebrate that the best thing I can think to do, the place and posture I keep coming back to, is one of thankfulness and grace. That I am here, doing something I love, around people I love, feeling joy, feeling pain, learning, failing, getting back up, and just plain connecting with people and loving and being loved — I keep stopping, naming, thanking.
Culinary school is done, Christmas is coming, I’ll be back on English soil soon, and I am loved well.
Stop, name, thank.
[photo credit here]
