This morning I am listening to a Hildegard of Bingen recording that was once my parenting soundtrack. The fussy infant I cradled against me often fought sleep, and later fought just about everything; I wished for vision and clarity to help him. And I am thinking of him now, a young man a thousand miles … Continue reading Monday Morning Fog
Transitions
Hankerin’ for Red Onions
Handsome Chef Boyfriend arrived last night, which could mean only one thing: bad puns and good eatin'. (Okay, two things.) In the daily morning call we decided on homemade pizza for dinner. Get whatever you want for toppings, he said. My mom used to ask me if I had a hankerin' for something when I … Continue reading Hankerin’ for Red Onions
Pressing Reset
Time for a change. Not How The Story Ends served its purpose, saw me through the thousand-mile journey which in so many ways continues. And although I think the overriding message there is one of hope, it is still a bit backward looking. My hope now is to live in the moment and tell stories … Continue reading Pressing Reset
Waning Summer
I have a pair of visitors who make their presence known every single morning on my front porch, expecting to be fed. I confess I have cultivated this habit in them. Handsome Chef Boyfriend chides me about this, insisting I will be the kind of old lady one day who can't afford to put food … Continue reading Waning Summer
Elusive Friendship and Little Swans
Last week we wrapped up a three-week summer intensive at ballet school; on Saturday the high-intermediate-level students showcased their work in a studio demonstration for their families, something that usually happens at the end of intensives. Each of us on staff was asked to set something on them. I chose Cygnets ("young swans"), the dance … Continue reading Elusive Friendship and Little Swans
Clear Brook Farm, 180 Degrees
We are spoiled in Vermont during the summer growing season with an abundance of gorgeous produce to be had in local Saturday farmers' markets and elsewhere. (I am okay with being spoiled, or spoilt as a Southern friend likes to say; the flip side of that is Vermont winter.) I have observed before that the … Continue reading Clear Brook Farm, 180 Degrees
Wednesday Morning
When I was a little girl my dad had a way of putting a positive spin on things during a challenging week. "It's Wednesday--Hump Day!" he would quip. "Friday will be here before you know it!" This rainy Vermont Wednesday morning the air outside is clean scrubbed. Inside a little of the the maple-cinnamon oatmeal … Continue reading Wednesday Morning
Watching the Garden Grow
I drive past this very ambitious looking garden patch on my commute some days, depending how I go. I love this quirkly outdoor art installation. Somebody's got a great sense of humor. And an appreciation for the finer things in life. This always makes me smile, even when I am having a gloomy day. I … Continue reading Watching the Garden Grow
Charge Complete, Okay to Disconnect
"The main question is, Are you actually gonna cook in this amazing kitchen?' The answer came in turn as a question: "Do you want to eat?" I had put this to Handsome Chef Boyfriend a few nights ago during one of our twice-daily phone chats, referring to the beautiful house where I have been dog- … Continue reading Charge Complete, Okay to Disconnect
Time Turner
Hermione's immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when … Continue reading Time Turner
Sycamore Stories 