sweet & spicy

Reading, over coffee this morning. Wanting to underline it all. Score it all, and by so doing, transfer it to my heart for safekeeping. For safe-remembering. 

But it's a library book. So I'll tuck it away to order later, buy later. Not right this second, although that's what I want to do, but I'm trying to be fiscally responsible, so I will wait. (Wait for free shipping, more like.) 

Last night's supper - salmon tails slathered in a sauce of horseradish, Dijon mustard, and honey. Baked in the oven. Pungent, tasty, spicy, sweet. Not for Adam (he doesn't like fish) but for me. (He had steak.)

This morning: saw Adam off at 6. Hugged him at the door. "Love you honey," I said, as normal. Then: "100 percent. Down to your toes." Not what I normally say, but I was inspired this morning. He rolls his eyes affectionately, "OK dear." 

After I ate breakfast, I came in here, to my office. Inspired. In spiro. Lit my candle. Put on Lauryn Hill, the Unplugged album. Those strumming strings, those cracked-voice lyrics -- ahhhhhh. My soul. It sings along. I clap in my mind with the audience on the album. 

Happy Thursday, friends. 

it's good to go to the source

In my case, that means my mother's house in Baddeck Bay. 

Home of wooden plates, whole-wheat waffles packed with berries and chocolate, and snow-woods-silence. Three cats. Big windows. Memories. Maman. 

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Right now, more than anything, I value: silence. 

Both auditory and in my schedule.

Time to not think of others. Of their needs. Time and space to focus on me. My needs. 

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The clocks went forward one hour. It is lighter later. We crept forward a minute at a time for months and suddenly: jumped! 

Happy Monday, friends.

A present

A special weather statement is in effect. 

A low pressure system will pass south of Nova Scotia tonight as it intensifies and tracks towards Newfoundland. Snow from this system is expected to reach the Atlantic Coast of Nova Scotia this afternoon in the south and early this evening further north.

The clouds hang low. The air is still and cold. 

Just a few days ago it was warm. You could feel spring coming. I half expected to see the tiny tips of chives poking up out of the ground. I felt drunk on garden plans. 

A few days and a weather statement later, and we're back to considering shovels. Back to factoring in extra time in plans for clearing the driveway. Back to thinking, "Do I have enough books to read if the storm is heavier than expected?"

(I will always technically have enough books to read, as I have plenty on my shelves that I've never read. But what I'm really asking is, "Do I have enough books from the library that I'm actually excited to read?")

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Tonight on my way home from work (which is in Sydney) I drove past the turn to my house and all the way into town (which is North Sydney - and which is actually a completely separate town than Sydney; separated by a harbour in fact). I had gotten an email from my local library branch earlier, letting me know that an Inter-library Loan (or ILL for us nerds) was in. "Present Over Perfect" by Shauna Niequest. A title I have been wanting to read since I first heard about it last year, but which my own library system didn't buy, so I had to order it via ILL from somewhere else in the province. But you have to wait a year for those: they don't ILL books within a year of publication. 

So I knew I wasn't waiting til later in the weekend for this book. A storm on the way, and an exciting title? I'm definitely spending those extra ten minutes and what, a dollar? on gas to go get it. 

Happy Friday - and possible storm day - friends. 

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PS Bonus mini "Links Loved": these blogging tips by Erin Loechner feel really good to me right now. I read them through, and thought "yes, yes, yes." I want to go back and chew them over a few more times. 

quiet morning #1

We blog for such different reasons at different points in our lives. It really runs the gamut from showing expertise in a subject (carefully crafted posts, shared with less frequency) to off-the-cuff logging of life (the writing is then a work in progress, shared more with frequency). 

This month I am showing up here daily, quietly, I've decided. 

Making a small record every day. Of this life, as it is right now. 

Before things change. (If they change - so much of the upcoming possible change is not up to Adam and I. Only one part is.) 

For now, it's 6:32 am. I have "Kerala" by Bonobo on repeat, and loud. It feels like the perfect soundtrack. I love the voices blending, and the tones of the instruments. Outside the sun is rising. The sky is a gradient from blue to light yellow, stunning and clear. The ducks that live in the field nearby are flying around, black silhouettes against the light. 

Adam has left for work. He's working the Woodbine job these days, which starts at 7. I'll go to work at 8, for an 8:30 start. 

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A seagull flaps by. 

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I feel like digging back in time. Like spending time re-reading my own words, from 2002 (age 18), to 2012 (age 28). To today. To rediscover. Become re-inspired. 

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Happy Thursday, friends. 

Currently...

Writing for 15 minutes a day (or trying anyway).

Listening to this song.  It seems to fit this contented, peaceful season Adam and I find ourselves in.

Smelling the pre-Spring air, itching to dig in the ground. 

Googling easy-to-fit-together raised beds.

Drinking coffee, one cup in the morning. 

Desiring yoga again.

Making do with a few simple stretches in my chair right now.

Watching crows out of my window on the neighbour's telephone wire.

Hitting repeat on the song from earlier.

Thinking about women, patriarchy, misogyny, love and hate. (Happy Women's Day.)

Flipping through my Get To Work Book and thinking about the day of work ahead. Who will I see, whose hellos will I hear? Will I get my planned work done or will I be interrupted? How will those interruptions shape my day?

Making lunch - a sandwich, probably.

Happy Wednesday, friends. 

the winter blues

This winter I find myself wondering if I have the winter blues.

I don't have a solid answer. My gut doesn't immediately produce a YES or a NO, only the question. But I'm leaning towards "no," because I'm not actually sad. 

But I do feel like hibernating. Like listening to silence. Like turning off my phone. 

I do feel like opening space in my calendar, which requires an awful lot of "No, thanks, maybe another time,"-s, or "Can we play this by ear?" Or a phrase closer to the truth, which is, "I just started a new job at my work, and it's more tiring than I thought it would be." 

Which pushes my button of shame, directly. BZZT BZZT BZZT!

I think it's because I think I'm supposed to be invincible. (Do you think this about yourself, too?) That any new challenge, I'm supposed to chew it up like a snowblower does snow, and spit it out in a glorious arc over the snowbank, effortlessly. 

Except a snowblower actually takes effort. It takes gas and oil, takes a person pushing it and pulling it. Takes maintenance and care - covering it up after you're done using it, making sure it's secure. 

So, no. It's not the winter blues, that I have. It's that I'm a human, and humans get tired. Social media, and having a full calendar, doesn't make my spirit go "Ahhhhhh....." right now, the way free space, and staring up at the sky does. 

It's odd, for me, someone who has put parts of her life up on blogs or social networks, for years, to feel the opposite compulsion. But... I'm going with it for now. That's how it goes, after all, this being human thing.

How is your winter going?

xo Leah 

How I resist.

These days are not normal. The days creep closer until Donald Trump becomes the President. The days continue to pass that I - and many others - look around like "What? This is really happening?" 

I thought I would share with you how I, personally, am resisting accepting this as normal. I don't care that it's happening in America and I live in Canada - that means nothing to me. Half my family is American. A good number of dear friends are American. America is my country's closest sibling, who lives right next door. If they're in trouble, so are we. 

So:

1. Leah McElrath is the first place I go when I'm wondering what's new. 
2. Then I check in with the following: Summer Brennan, Sarah Kendzior, Ijeoma Oluo, Lauren Duca and Kate Harding. There are more folks too but most of them I found by following those people. 
3. I've been listening to The 451 Podcast. I do think it's pretty funny that in 2017, the resistance ...has a podcast. Of course it does. But that doesn't make it any less important. 
4. I forgive myself for not being perfect. For needing rest. For needing time away from seeing it all unfold. For still going about my daily life instead of packing up my car and driving to Washington to join the Women's March. 
5. I talk about it out loud as much as I'm able to, in real life, with the people around me. This is not normal. This is not OK. And it's all too easy to accept it as normal, simply by wanting to blend in, to not stick out as different from the people around you. That's how Naziism took hold in Germany in the 30s. People wanted to be "good", but to resist you have to risk looking foolish, different. So do that, in whatever amount you're able to. That's what it means to resist. 

How about you, how do you resist? What are you able to do?