Monday, March 3, 2014


I was determined to like January this year.
January is hard.
It is the philosophical start of winter.
November and December are cold months filled with holidays, plans, and lights.
But then you turn the corner of the new year,
and January stretches out in front of you like a cold expanse.

It is the start of inertia months.
Like a comet orbiting the earth, gliding smoothly through the dark spaces,
no new forces are acting on it.
Winter is the time of encasement, not creation.
We do not bring new forces to bear on our lives.
We simply hope to avoid getting sucked in by the earth gravitational pull,
and if we do,
we hope that the plans and the light we stored up in previously months will be enough
to keep us from crashing into the frozen earth.

I carried some plans into January,
bundled up tight and held closely to my chest.

I would cross-country ski,
I would sit and read by the fire,
our money would be enough now that we had moved out into the country.
We would hibernate until the spring.

But Jack Frost's fingers casually decided to pluck each of these from me.

January was a month of ice and below zero temperatures,
not a month of snow for skiing.
The roof on our Jeep started to peel away, we had debts pop up we didn't know about,
our money would not be enough.
So we would not sit and read by the fire, we would go to work.

There became a need to change our direction.
But when you are floating along in space,
the only thing that will change your direction is a force from within.
And that force was hibernating.

I kept trying to light the fuse,
but the lighter only flickered and flickered out.

So instead, we will ride out the winter,
and see where we land when we crash into the frozen earth.
And build from there.

And in the mean time,
I will watch the crows in the snow scattered field with straws of hay from the harvest poking through.
That scene of black, white, and beige.
The colors of winter.
And I will watch as the crows peck intently around the field,
as if they are reading braille,
telling the secrets of winter.  


In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
snow had fallen, snow on snow,
in the bleak midwinter, long ago.
-Christina Rossetti

Monday, January 27, 2014

RECAP/ April #2

Birthday celebration:
Part 2!

This was the first of many times seeing my family 
in the spring and summer.
They had gotten tickets for the first ever concert at the Georgia Football stadium.
The Gibson Bus for the tailgate.
As you do, as you do.

I love me some country

But this shall we put it...
a cultural experience for the beau.
He'd never before seen the parade of Southern girls with blonde hair, sun dresses and cowboy boots.  
A far cry from Vermont flannel.

My sister Jenna showing off the bus.

There are guitars inside!

 The beau strumming barefoot.

Expressing my love of the Edge on the bus.

 The beau had a bit more passionate love for B.B.


 Nope, just drinking water here...


So much country!

End of the evening pizza.
Can we talk about how amazing this photo is?
They are besties.

Not sure if gets much better
than to get to celebrate twice with friends and family for your 30th!

Don't you know,
Ain't nothing in the whole wide world
Like a southern girl.
-Tim McGraw

Sunday, January 26, 2014

RECAP/April #1

I turned 30!

My best friend flew up to Vermont for her spring break to celebrate,
which makes her a super champ because early April in Vermont is still pretty much frigid without the pretty snow.
The weekend before my birthday,
we threw a sparkles party.
Complete with macarons, champagne cocktails, and crown decorating.

The boys were next door drinking beer,
but they eventually came over and made their own crowns,
because they were jealous.

Then we all headed out to the back room
at Duino Duende,
which is like a secret pirate meeting room,
where we drank and feasted and laughed.
It was awesome.

Then on my actual birthday,
we decided to head up to Montreal for the day.
Only it was freezing and snowing.

Me: Here, here are some long underwear.  You might want them if we're going to be walking around the city.

Cate: What do you mean?

Me:  Just put them on under your jeans.

Cate: Under my jeans?

Me: Yep.  Welcome to Vermont.  In April.

But we wandered the Old Town...
ate crepes...
walked through art galleries...
and managed to sneak a glimpse of the feeling that we were traveling again.

Then we came home to a homemade cake
(and cake stand gift!)
from Miss Lizzie,
and the most amazing steak dinner I've ever had from the beau.
Followed by Cards Against Humanity.

30 was off to a good start.
And this was only celebration #1!


Thirty was so strange for me.
I've really had to come to terms with the fact that I am now a walking and talking adult.
-C.S. Lewis

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Out of Hibernation

I've missed this.
Oh so much.
Blogging got me through medical school.
And I've missed it.
That chance to sit down...
slow the film reel while replaying what's been going on in your life...
and blessedly recognize the beautiful moments, the lessons, to really see the people around you.

I haven't written over the last 8 or 9 months,
I find it very hard to describe the landscape around me,
when I feel like I'm in the middle of a tornado.
(Although that's probably exactly when I should be trying to.)

It seems like the spinning may be slowing down though,
and at least I can tell you where I've been.

I graduated from medical school.
I turned 30.
I moved. Twice.
I have held 5 or 6 different part time jobs.
I have been broke.  Many times.
I have gotten to see my family.  Many times.
I got to go to Scotland for a wedding.
My best friend and I had our first attempt at starting a business.
I bought a Winnebago!
And most, importantly,
I got engaged
to this wonderful man.

And I'd like to share it all.
To relive the glorious moments and to suss out what I learned.


To be able to look back upon ones life in satisfaction, is to live twice.
-Khalil Gibran