little black journal

Another blessed weekend of truly ‘weekending’ – lazy mornings in bed, afternoons spent reading on the back patio, leisurely dinners with good friends… I feel like I’ve rediscovered the beauty of relaxation, and it. is. goooooood. It must be the weather that’s put me on such a high; after we each finished our morning run over to Lake Washington, Shane and I spent yesterday afternoon laying on a blanket in the sand at Ed Munro Seahurst Park, dragging ourselves up out of our sun-soaked sprawl only when we got so hot that we needed to go dip our feet in the frigid waters of the Puget Sound, and by the time we left, I was giddy. It just feels like such a treat to enjoy the outdoors without even having to do anything – I’m used to oooh-ing and aaaah-ing over the beauty of Mount Rainer, or being wowed by the lushness of a forest hike, but to feel totally in love with the Northwest without even having to stand up, or even open my eyes? That’s pretty rare. The special-ness of days like yesterday is not lost on me.

That said, we awoke this morning to cloudy skies and a misty drizzle, but I didn’t even mind – I suppose I was still riding my sunshine high from Saturday and was totally content to come home from church and enjoy curling up on the couch with my book and a cup of tea. And the weather gods rewarded my good nature with a late-afternoon bout of sunshine, so I was able to peel myself off the couch and plop down on our patio to catch a few more weekend rays. I’ve always prided myself on being one of those Seattle-ites that endures the clouds and the rain with minimal complaining, as I’m usually happy to retreat to a cafe or the sofa when the weather isn’t conducive to being outside. But I’m seeing the brighter side of life, and hot damn, it is bliss.

We’ve been enjoying some quality time with family lately, with a visit from my mom and dad last weekend, and a quick trip down to Portland this weekend to see my brother, his wife, and the girls.  Although these trips always end up feeling much more brief than I’d like, I’m thankful for these short-but-sweet chances to reconnect with one another.

My parents were here on a typical rainy June weekend, and so my hopes of enjoying Seattle’s great outdoors didn’t quite pan out.  But we passed mornings hunkered down in cafes to enjoy a latte, followed by afternoons spent lounging at home to watch the Giants, and evenings gathered around the dining room table for a home-cooked meal and a game of cards.  And so my bitterness over the rain subsided as I realized how nice it was to spend a simple, cozy weekend at home with my mom and dad.

Our trip to Portland was equally mellow, but substantially sunnier, and so we did our relaxing in the backyard.  Lots of good eating, lots playing with Elise and Morgan, and a quick trip downtown to do a little shopping at Powell’s and West Elm, for good measure.  Shane continues to be Elise’s favorite, and I suspect he is trying to sneak his way into Morgan’s good graces as well…

I really don’t mind being runner-up, though.  I can’t hold a grudge against a gril with a smile like this one.

Finding ourselves with a little time to kill in the Pearl District before the stores opened, I subjected the family to a little photo shoot.  It is amazingly difficult to get two adults and two small children to look at a camera all at the same time.  But…success!

And this is the point where I lament the end of a beautiful weekend.  Sigh.

It’s Sunday night, and I am simultaneously mourning the end of the weekend and smiling over just how fabulous the past couple of days have been.  Yesterday will go down in the books as a life-is-good really perfect kind of day.  It started with my art opening at the cafe – I had my anxieties about putting my art ‘out there’ for friends and strangers to see, but the morning turned out to be wonderfully chill, full of chatter and compliments and plenty of laughs.  After pouring so much time and energy into this show, it was good to share it with friends, and to hear them say that the effort was worth it.  The event ended with a bang, as my brother and his family arrived from Portland just in time to catch us before we left the cafe – I was thrilled to be able to show my work to Mitch and Kathryn (and of course get my arms around precious little baby Morgan).

Erica and Michelle chatting about…art?  or the mini-muffins I brought for people to snack on?  Hard to say…:

I like to think Jack and Jason were debating over which print was their favorite, but my guess is that they are actually discussing the merits of a well-crafted Sazerac:

La V with Justin and Jeannie’s little baby L – he’s going to be one cool little kid, with that rockin’ hair and a dad with a weakness for designer sneakers:

Post-show, Shane and I invited everyone back to our place for a little grill action – the sun was shining and we had a fridge packed with beer and bratwursts.  We all crowded onto our backyard patio, for more chatter, more laughter, and sheer giddiness over the fact that it feels like summer has arrived in Seattle (fingers crossed).  In addition to the art show and the sunshine, we celebrated the return of our dear friends Brian and Nicole from their year in Tanzania – after months of seeing their faces only via Skype, it was super-special to have them back with us.  Such a blessing to sit in the sunshine and be surrounded by so many friends and family – I expect that this will be the first barbecue of many to come over the next couple of months…

Friends reunited (photo from Jack):

The evening was mellow – we took Elise to the playground, then ate dinner and drank white wine out on the patio (this whole outdoor warmth thing really is a game-changer, in terms of meals…).  It was fun to spend some quality time with the girlies, to see how they’ve changed over the past couple of months.  Morgan is sweeter than ever (heart-breakingly so), and Elise is still stubborn but hard-to-refuse, full of questions and opinions that often have us laughing.  And they’re both getting so big!  *Sigh*

We were up early this morning (Elise wouldn’t have it any other way) to hit the bakery and then spend a couple of hours at Seward Park.  Elise takes after her Uncle Shane, in that she can stand at the edge of a lake and throw rocks for hours.

Mitch and Kathryn left around lunchtime and Shane was at the office doing some work, which left me with a blissfully open afternoon.  I napped, I watched a couple episodes of Friday night lights, I browsed Zappos’ latest offerings, and I reveled in the joy of free time.  This weekend felt like the kick-off to a new season – and I’m thinking it’s going to be one heck of a summer.

Today marks Shane’s and my fifth wedding anniversary. FIVE. Hard to believe it’s been half a decade since the two of us stood in front of our most favorite people on that California farm and promised to love each other for ever and ever. I remember the butterflies in my stomach that morning, as I realized I was just about to go through with one of the biggest decisions of my life. I remember the fun of getting my hair done with my mom and my girlfriends, and then the nervous rush to get my dress on and my makeup done and my veil placed ‘just so’. And then I remember the peace and the joy that I felt when I saw Shane waiting for me out on the lawn, and the assurance that came as we took a quiet moment to pray with each other before the flurry of the photos and the ceremony and the hellos to family and friends. That day was everything we wanted it to be – the perfect beginning to our new life together.

It’s not uncommon for people to refer to marriage as “hard work”. When Shane and I were dating, if I heard someone mention just how much it takes to maintain a good marriage, I always acknowledged those comments with a thoughtful nod and a murmur of agreement. But inwardly, I was thinking, “What can be so hard about spending your life with the person you love?” Marriage sounded pretty great  - you always have a date on Friday nights, you get help with housework and bills and stuff of the daily grind, and at those times when you really need a back rub, there’s someone there to give it to you. And I was lucky – I had found a man that made me indescribably happy, someone who made me feel safe and loved and excited about the future. Five years into this grand adventure, I still won’t say it feels like work. But being close, truly doing life together, does take effort. Some days I fail miserably – like the other night, when I snapped at Shane after a long day because his schedule and priorities did not align exactly with what I had on my to-do list.  But on other days I succeed at letting him know that he’s pretty damn special – I bake him muffins, or tell him that I’m so thankful for the man that is, or give him one of my for-Shane-only extra huge bear hugs and ask him to tell me about whatever is on his mind.  Sometimes these expressions of love come easily, and sometimes I have to remind myself that I can’t let my investment in him be based solely on feelings.  Even when I’m grumpy, he still needs affirmation.  And hugs.  So here’s to 50 more years of hugs, through the good times and the bad.  And if the past five years are any indication of what’s to come, there are plenty of good times in store for us.

It’s hard to see our long-awaited vacation come to a close, but we ended it on a really lovely note, with some super-relaxing, family-filled time in Alexandria. We got to take part in so many special moments over the past couple of days: we were able to see Shane’s sister walk in her college graduation ceremony, after years of hard work; we got to take his mom out for a belated Mother’s Day lunch and his dad out for an early Father’s Day dinner; we watched Shane’s dad reap the benefits of his shiny, new, state-of-the-art tractor; and we all gathered together last night to cheer on our little nephew Avery as he drove in his first go-cart race (at the age of six! look at him go!). Since we often only see Shane’s family once a year at Thanksgiving time, this visit felt like a nice little bonus, packed with good memories we were thrilled to be a part of.

It was also a treat to see Minnesota in the springtime, with buds on the trees and fields full of dandelions. Although the November snow certainly has its charm, its nice to see so many shades of green in places that I’ve always known as frozen and bare.

And now, after 8 glorious days of doing what we want to, waking up when we want to, eating what we want to, and generally being completely self-indulgent, our big trip has come to a close. ‘Home, sweet home’ was my mantra throughout the entire flight back to Seattle, muttered in an effort to ease the pain of saying good-bye to ‘vacation, sweet vacation’…

Shane and I were in the middle of our Sunday evening routine (60 minutes and an end-of-the-weekend cocktail) when the news blurb started flashing across the bottom of the screen – ‘stay tuned for an important update from President Obama regarding Osama bin Laden’. I looked over at Shane and he raised his eyebrows before darting for the laptop, ready to scour the Internet for the nation’s latest headlines. I crossed my fingers, praying that the news would be good – after the segment we’d just watched on Lara Logan’s horrific experience with sexual assault by an Egyptian mob, I didn’t know how I’d handle more heavy news. Fifteen seconds of web-surfing was all it took for Shane to give me the late-breaking report – Osama bin Laden had been killed by American troops. Hoo…ray? I would have expected to feel immediate relief from such news – I would have imagined myself clapping my hands with the sweet taste of justice being served, celebrating with anti-terrorists across America as we learned that we could finally rest easy in knowing this terrible man was no longer a threat. But I wasn’t inclined to clap, or shout from the rooftops, or even breathe a sigh of relief. I was unsettled, for reasons I couldn’t put into words. I suppose there was disappointment in knowing that despite this leader’s demise, the war on terror would still rage on, claiming more lives and perpetuating more fear and more racism and more cultural divisiveness. There was sadness in knowing that his death would not bring back the loved ones whose lives were lost in the attacks of September 11th. And ultimately, after hearing from friends that encouraged us to view the situation through the lens of a Christian American, rather than just an American, I realized the root of my uneasiness – as a follower of Christ, I am called to love my enemies, no matter the circumstance. Is there room for justice and retribution in this love? Absolutely. I’m not saying bin Laden should have been allowed to walk free; but rejoicing in another man’s death feels far from Christ-like. So instead of celebrating, I will pray for reconciliation among nations, for our country’s leaders to be richer in wisdom than in ‘intelligence’, and for a future where the atrocities of terrorism can be fought with means other than violence.

‘Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven.’ -Matthew 5:44

There are days when I am struck with the undeniable impulse to shop – today was one of those days, and being that I’ve been practicing great restraint since my big closet purge last month, I decided I would allow myself a little retail indulgence this afternoon.  I hit up a couple of department stores down in Southcenter, hoping to find a cute top or two to wear on our upcoming vacation.  After several unsuccessful bouts in the dressing room, I had to ask myself:  what is up with the latest fashions these days?  It’s like clothes are intentionally being made to fit the female figure poorly – to bunch up in all the wrong places, with ruffles in unfortunate locations and fabrics that either rest on your hips like a cardboard box or find that one area of your body that you’re less than thrilled about and cling to it for dear life.  We’ve all had those strike-out days in the dressing rooms – I guess today was my turn.  So I wandered over to the undergarments section, thinking I could surely find something to buy there.  And I was kind of appalled by the fact that more than half of the items in that section were designed to squeeze, push, tuck, and hide, with comfort apparently being waaaay down on the list of selling points.  So I need a push-up bra and a pair of Spanks in order to wear that stylish new top that’s really just going to make people think that I’m pregnant, anyway?  Sometimes it’s hard being a woman.  Not to get all ‘woe-is-me’ – I know that I am blessed with a closet full of perfectly wearable clothes, but seriously, it shouldn’t be that hard for me to walk into a store and find a shirt that is going to reaffirm the positive body image that I’ve worked at for years.  I deserve to feel good about myself, and I deserve to actually feel good while feeling good about myself, rather than feeling pinched and squeezed and concerned about compromised blood circulation.  But I wasn’t going to let the man get me down, so I hopped back in the car and sought solace in the aisles of DSW, knowing that you can always count on a good pair of heels to come through in a clutch.  Strike three – apparently it’s sandals season in Seattle, as evidenced by three-quarters of their inventory.  And since my toes aren’t quite ready to make their Springtime debut, I left the shoe shore empty-handed.  In the end, I drove back home with a new pair of one-size-fits-all earrings* and spent the remainder of they day in my favorite sweats.  You win some, you lose some.

(*full disclosure:  OK, I also found a pretty flattering new raincoat, but my frustration seems so much more justified if I leave that part out…)

From the minute I rolled over in bed this morning and lazily opened my eyes to the sight of sun-shiny skies, I knew today would be a good day.  And indeed it was – full of so many small and simple pleasures.  It’s amazing the joy that can come with just a little bit of warmth after a long string of chilly days.  I wore a tank top outside for the first time since I was in Florida; Shane and I got our p-patch plot underway, with cute little tomato plants, lettuce starters, and beet seeds; I watched Shane play basketball with the neighborhood boys and smiled as the big kid in him made his Spring-time debut; I traded in my Cabernet for a glass of cold, crisp Riesling; I poached an egg for the very first time and served it on top of a perfect veggie-filled risotto dish…  We wrapped up the evening with dessert and a movie with friends, and I am falling into bed tonight with just the very smallest tinge of pink on my sun-kissed cheeks.  And all feels right with the world.

The sun has finally made an appearance in Seattle - the flowers are blooming, the trees are bursting with vibrant shades of green, and extended daylight hours mean that I am no longer making the trek to and from work in the dark.  After what felt like an exceptionally long winter (although if I say that every year, are any of them really ‘exceptionally’ long?), I am thrilled by the promise of Spring in the air.  But somehow, even as Seattle sheds its misty veil and shines in all its Springtime glory, all I can think about is getting out of town.  Maybe it’s a bit of travel envy – our friends Jack and La Verne have headed off on their 2-week voyage through China; and I just sent Brian and Nicole a list of Parisian sights to see, as they’re stopping in France on their way back from Africa.  Maybe it’s restlessness, as I’ve been spending my weekends cooped up in the living room or the print studio, working on my art.  Or maybe it’s the knowledge that this time last year, I was camped out under a beach umbrella in Mexico, reading David Sedaris and drinking margaritas; and this time two years ago, we were just returning from our romp through Paris and Portugal and Spain.  Whatever the reason, I am downright antsy.  Fortunately, we are just a couple of weeks away from our trip to Chicago/Minneapolis/Alexandria (Shane’s Minnesotan hometown), and thanks to my husband the trip planner, our Midwestern vacation is looking like it will be pretty fabulous, full of delicious food, artisan cocktails, good art, plenty of baseball, and some quality time with the family.  Can’t. Hardly. Wait.  But lately, I’m dreaming of places farther and farther from home.  First it was a long Autumn weekend in New York, where we’d frolic through Central Park and dine on patios in Greenwich Village.  Then it was a few days in a cozy little cottage on the coast of Maine, where we’d bask in the Fall colors and smell the ocean air.  From there, I progressed to visions of ringing in my next birthday in Paris, where we’d drink wine at sidewalk tables in the Marais and eat Nutella crepes on the banks of the Seine.  Then Shane started talking about a desire to see St. Petersburg and southern Finland, and my head really started to spin.  It’s hard to say where our Fall trip will take us – work schedules, rising ticket prices, and other priorities might mean that we end up settling for a weekend getaway in Washington’s wine country.  But for now, I’m going to let my mind wander, and remember those dreamy evening picnics on the Seine and that afternoon I dozed on a bench in the Jardin des Plantes…

We spent this weekend in Portland, hangin’ with the family and getting caught up on any growing/changing that the girls have done over the past six weeks.  My parents were also in town Friday night, so we had a chance to share a meal with them and dote on Elise as an entire family, as she just turned three last week and has come to understand the joy of opening birthday presents.  She is indeed three years old – after a quick but relatively un-enthused ‘wow!’, any boxes of clothes were tossed aside, and it was the little percussion set from Mitch and Kathryn that stole the show as the most attention-worthy gift.  She banged on that drum for several minutes, then passed out her collection of other instruments, with yours truly on the tambourine, my mom on the harmonica, and my dad on the ocarina.  I can tell you that we do not have a future as the next Partridge Family, but we sure do know how to laugh together – I nearly fell off my chair as we all made our terrible racket and Elise danced in the middle of the kitchen as if we were actually playing something with any discernible beat.

Saturday was a quiet day around the house, with a couple of small outings to enjoy ice cream and park time with the birthday girl.  Elise is as playful and energetic as ever.  She loves showing us how high she can jump, playing school, wearing her awesome pink cowboy boots, and sitting on her Uncle Shane’s lap (yes, I begrudgingly admit that he is still the favorite).  Her laugh is absolutely infectious.

Morgan, on the other hand, is still tiny and precious and content just to be held and cuddled and rocked.  Although I can’t wait to see what kind of a little girl she will become, I also never want her to grow out of this always-too-short baby phase.  Shane and I offered to watch the kids and put them to bed last night, so that Mitch and Kathryn could enjoy an over-due evening out on the town.  As I rocked Morgan to sleep, I was overwhelmed by the realization of how much I already love this little girl, at only three months old.

A quick stop at Barista in the Pearl District this morning for the latte to top all lattes, and then our Portland weekend of family fun was over. The house right next door to Mitch and Kathryn’s is currently for sale – if Seattle weren’t feeling so very much like home these days, I’d be asking Shane if we could make an offer  and allow unlimited Auntie and Uncle access to the girlies…