The young director at the ballet school in Vermont's Upper Valley, where I now hang my hat professionally, is enjoying her long-delayed move into a new building which continues as I write this. On Saturday we will hold our first classes there. This new chapter in the life of her fledgling school has opened with … Continue reading Rear View Mirror: Photo Essay
Month: February 2013
House Wine of the South
It is a balmy 37 degrees outside today, day four of my miserable head cold. The inside of my little house is toasty--all the heat is shut off save the pellet stove and I am happily barefoot and wearing a tank top. I made my first pitcher of iced tea in many weeks; could not … Continue reading House Wine of the South
Saturday Morning Snapshot
Head cold, steel cut oats, Vermont maple syrup, great grandmother's Blue Ridge.
Vermont Barbie has dirt under her nails.
I am not sure how long it has been there, nor when it happened. And I swear I practice excellent personal hygiene, truly. But lately I have been enough pressed for time that I am content to find a moment just to snip my nails with clippers, much less file them, or—God forbid—give myself a … Continue reading Vermont Barbie has dirt under her nails.
Greetings from Vermont
Wintry chores, indoors. Ballet classes, reading glasses. Ice skate, bread bake. Lake run, too much fun. Work-play, lazy day. Valentines, canines. Pot-au-feu, boyfriend, too. Crossword puzzle, doggy muzzle. Foot rubs, lots of snug-gles. Heavy sighs, long goodbyes. Greetings from Vermont.
Happy Valentine’s Day
This came from the bakery where Handsome Chef Boyfriend works, rejected because of its imperfections. Looks like somebody was coloring outside the lines; makes it a little more interesting, a little less predictable, kinda messy. Go and find some sweetness and love today, even if it is imperfect--you know, a little less cookie cutter. Color … Continue reading Happy Valentine’s Day
Rolling Around in the Snow, in the Buff
Yes, I really did this last night underneath a sky that was so incredibly dark and brilliant with stars and planets I am not sure my words can do it justice. My small digital Canon PowerShot simply can’t capture what I saw, so I had to grab something that approximates the nighttime sky in rural … Continue reading Rolling Around in the Snow, in the Buff
The lake has spoken.
Handsome Chef Boyfriend and I skated around the lake again day before yesterday (no, that is not us in the photo--that woman does not have a death grip on her friend); this time we went for the entire circuit, about four and a half miles. The wind was rough at times and on occasion the … Continue reading The lake has spoken.
Zzzzzzz….
I hear the sound of my own voice at home only when I am talking to myself (c’mon—you know you do it, too), or when I address the other life unit here—Clarence-the-Canine: Do you need to pee? Are you hungry? Wag, wag, wag. But when I want to hear the sound of another human my … Continue reading Zzzzzzz….
My house smells like kishke.
I have long used Steven Mitchell’s ballet classroom music when I teach; he is a NYC-based classical ballet accompanist and musician who, along with a couple others of his ilk, was kind enough to help me develop a program for live ballet class accompaniment at my small school in Knoxville in 2010. A track on one … Continue reading My house smells like kishke.
Sycamore Stories 