New Year, Old Me (possibly)
There’s something special about January. The second hand shifts from one side of the clock to the other, our phone calendars flip to the next month and a new year, and it feels like we’re given a clean slate. Resolutions are made as we envision the kind of person we will be in the new year. Personal health goals like exercising regularly, cutting out sodas and/or alcohol, or, for the truly determined, not lying to the dentist when she asks if you floss regularly. Or maybe the goals are home-oriented, like decluttering one space each week, finally sticking with that cleaning schedule, or the ambitious, folding and putting away laundry…
Pulling Weeds
These last weeks I have watched our yard come vibrantly to life. The barren brown landscape offered its first hints of color a couple of months ago but held tightly with bated breath. Nature has finally exhaled and brought to life the leaves on our Aspen trees now flickering in the wind, the blossoms on lilac bushes peaking through with clumps of color, and a sprout of what I hope is sage popping out from beneath the faded, old mulch. This beauty should have been enough to force me outdoors to begin the maintenance of such gifts, but it wasn’t. Instead, I watched from my window and enjoyed the view,…
Another Blank Page
There’s something special about the turn of a new year. I enjoy watching it play out on social media. I love to see people acknowledge the things they’ve survived and turn with a hopeful eye to the new year. It’s a white page waiting for the first strokes of paint to color it beautiful, an empty journal waiting for the first words of prose to fill it, a blank staff ready for the opening notes of a new melody. December 31st feels like standing on a precipice, waiting to take the first step into something exciting and new. And then sometimes the clock strikes 12, and you get slapped in…
Silly Traditions & New Resolutions
Ten years ago, John and I rang in the new year/new decade on a snow-covered rooftop in Seoul. We took our dogs and two bottles of sparkling cider to the top of our apartment building and looked out across the skyline for fireworks. We couldn’t see any from our vantage point, but we laughed at our failed plan and enjoyed each other’s company anyway. As the clock struck midnight, we participated in our annual cider chug– a silly tradition started by my brother in the early 2000s. Each person cracks a bottle of sparkling cider or grape juice and races to drink their beverage first. The bottles had chilled in…
Home is Where the Heart Is
Home is where the heart is, or so the old adage goes. But that doesn’t accurately encompass the complexities of military life. My children and my husband are my heart, and they’re here with me, but Colorado doesn’t feel like home yet. So when does a place feel like home and not just a place you live? I recently posed the question on my Facebook page confident that my military connections would have the answer. Responses included: When you can get to the grocery store without navigation When you make real/genuine friendships When you feel comfortable in the area When you’re involved in the community (both an answer and a…
Tis the Season for Reminiscing
The chicken thighs were boiling in my large stock pot on the stove, the air filled with the warm fragrance of chicken stock, and I was peeling and cubing potatoes. The next step would be getting the biscuits cut up for dumplings. This is one of my favorite meals to cook because it has 3 ingredients and is almost mindless in its preparation. Added to the fact that I always make it in obscenely large quantities, it’s one of my go to recipes to share with families in need of a meal, which is why I was making it again this week. Listening to the thwack of my knife against…
