Hefe

2012: May 29

Picked myself up a little something for having survived another May.

2012: May 9

If you've ever seen this book in its hardcover form, then you know it's a gnarly beast of a book, meant for downloading to an e-reader and pulling out without fear of wrist pain. Thirteen years ago, however, when this book was purchased at a reading/signing, the e- route was not an option. And so we've been lugging this unread tome through our various homes, packed and unpacked and placed in new piles of books to be read one day. I'm reading it now.

2012: Apr 24

What's left after de-papering the english paper piecing. The little paper hexagons, I can reuse. But all the pesky bits of thread just attach themselves to whatever I'm wearing and become lint tray fodder. Suddenly, my all black wardrobe seems less sensible.

2012: Mar 15

Bear, the contortionist, discovers that our empty laundry basket makes a most suitable curling-up space, a close second to The Mr.'s suitcase which she routinely drags out from under our bed.

2012: Mar 13

Across the street from my office is another set of offfices perched on a parking garage. So it's not what you'd call a scenic view. Still, the buds on that tree, three stories up here, are starting to grow, and before long those little flitting birds will be twirling around on the branches, and there's really never a drawback to having a window.

2012: Jan 14

Growing up in the Bay Area we had zero snow days that I can recall. I'm sure there was a slushy day here or there, and plenty of mornings with stubborn rimy coats on windshields and shrubbery. But having been in the Northwest for the past decade and a half (minus that couple of years in much warmer climes) the novelty of snow has pretty well worn off, replaced with the annoyance at the interference with my marathon training, and dread at the prospects of Monday morning commute. Still, with the right camera phone filters, it can be pretty.

Nov:25

It was in Boulder that The Mr. And I shared our first home together, a sweet space on the upper floor of a building that seemed to have been a corner shop in quainter times. Every few years we cruise by and point it out to the kids who feign interst for the five seconds they're willing to break eye contact from their iPads and then we move on to a nice stroll on Pearl Street.