It's New Year's Eve. In my quiet retiree Franco-American neighborhood someone feels compelled to set fireworks aflame. Boom.
Best NYE memory: Honolulu. oh yeah
Best NYE memory: Honolulu. oh yeah
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Friday, December 27, 2013
ice storm
Birches are bent over like wet grass.
Tree tops touch the ground.
Ice tubes litter my driveway, fallen from the power lines.
Tree tops touch the ground.
Ice tubes litter my driveway, fallen from the power lines.
icy roofs
I like to rake the snow off my roofs.
It's productive, strenuous, and satisfying. Sometimes ice crashes down dramatically. Sometimes I need snowshoes to get around the house.
It's all ice in Maine right now.
It's productive, strenuous, and satisfying. Sometimes ice crashes down dramatically. Sometimes I need snowshoes to get around the house.
It's all ice in Maine right now.
eggs
I like to buy fresh free-range local eggs.
Trouble is, chickens slow down in winter, and people bake a lot for the holidays
So, no eggs today.
Trouble is, chickens slow down in winter, and people bake a lot for the holidays
So, no eggs today.
snow, ice, car accidents
Saw 5 accidents yesterday on the turnpike. I was returning home from NYC. Saw an SUV on it's roof, in the median. Others looked like snow-slides into a ditch.
I kept to 45 mph, kept it steady, avoiding abrupt movements and braking.
Today was detoured around an accident. Head-on. It snowed all afternoon and roads were slushy or icy.
Please drive responsibly and safely, everyone.
I kept to 45 mph, kept it steady, avoiding abrupt movements and braking.
Today was detoured around an accident. Head-on. It snowed all afternoon and roads were slushy or icy.
Please drive responsibly and safely, everyone.
jammie time
Best, most favorite part of Christmas is jammie time. That time with family when you hang out in jammies and talk about those things closest to your heart.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
the drive
started in Maine with freezing rain and speed limit of 45 on the turnpike.
You could skate on the driveway, paved with a good half inch of ice. When I brought my car out of the garage to pack it with luggage and Christmas presents, rain hit it and froze, making a big car Popsicle. I drove slowly along the street and slammed on the brakes to see. The 4-wheel drive kicked in and I didn't skid. I hit the turnpike.
Blasting heat kept ice from forming on the windshield. Very few cars on the road. I kept it to 45 and watched other numbers: the outside temperature, nicely displayed on the dash, and my expected time of arrival (ETA) on the guided personal system (GPS). It was 29 degrees and my ETA 4 1/2 hours.
An hour later, an hour south, the temp rose to 32 and I put the pedal to the metal; 65 mph. It started to rain harder. There were more cars on the road. I stopped for coffee. Stopped at a gift store in New Hampshire.
Around Boston the roads were full and we went 65-70 bumper to bumper in pouring rain. I could see the car in front of me, and the next car, but not much else. It was raining hard and cars threw up sheets of water. There were lots of trucks: behemoths of metal that could crush a car like a slap on a gnat.
Sometimes the road would open up a little and someone would sail past me, going 80 or 90. Sometimes cars darted in and around others like a cat on stairs. Sometimes it rained a little less.
The temp rose to 48.
5 1/2 hours of freezing rain, rain, traffic: miles and miles; past Worcester, Boston, and Hartford; my GPS got me to my destination: my aunt's house in Connecticut. I made it.
My cousins arrived from New York. We nibbled on snacks, admired my aunt's Christmas tree, opened presents, and went out for Thai and sushi. We had avocado and cucumber sushi, appetizers and curry.
Then we hit the road for New York City, my cousins and I, leaving my car in my aunt's driveway.
It was dark and drizzly. A passenger, I gazed at Christmas lights as we sped past big tidy houses. It took us half an hour to creep past an accident. We got onto a parkway: no trucks! We told stories and laughed all the way into the city, 2 hours.
Back home 100,000 are without power from the ice storm. The weather was supposed to turn warm and melt all the ice, but instead the freezing rain continued and it got colder. Now my town in coated in a thick layer of ice. Trees are bent and branches hang low, weighted and sorrowful. Branches crack, break, and drop; trees tip over from the weight. They smash and crash on cars and houses. When they land on power lines they darken neighborhoods. People are cold, lighting candles, trying to keep holiday food from spoiling.
I'm in New York City. I can see hundreds of apartment windows and blue sky above. We're in a nice neighborhood, I saw that last night as we circled the block several times in search of a parking spot. There are shops and restaurants down the block. We're going to stroll down there after breakfast.
It's Christmas Eve day and I'm in New York City with my cousins.
You could skate on the driveway, paved with a good half inch of ice. When I brought my car out of the garage to pack it with luggage and Christmas presents, rain hit it and froze, making a big car Popsicle. I drove slowly along the street and slammed on the brakes to see. The 4-wheel drive kicked in and I didn't skid. I hit the turnpike.
Blasting heat kept ice from forming on the windshield. Very few cars on the road. I kept it to 45 and watched other numbers: the outside temperature, nicely displayed on the dash, and my expected time of arrival (ETA) on the guided personal system (GPS). It was 29 degrees and my ETA 4 1/2 hours.
An hour later, an hour south, the temp rose to 32 and I put the pedal to the metal; 65 mph. It started to rain harder. There were more cars on the road. I stopped for coffee. Stopped at a gift store in New Hampshire.
Around Boston the roads were full and we went 65-70 bumper to bumper in pouring rain. I could see the car in front of me, and the next car, but not much else. It was raining hard and cars threw up sheets of water. There were lots of trucks: behemoths of metal that could crush a car like a slap on a gnat.
Sometimes the road would open up a little and someone would sail past me, going 80 or 90. Sometimes cars darted in and around others like a cat on stairs. Sometimes it rained a little less.
The temp rose to 48.
5 1/2 hours of freezing rain, rain, traffic: miles and miles; past Worcester, Boston, and Hartford; my GPS got me to my destination: my aunt's house in Connecticut. I made it.
My cousins arrived from New York. We nibbled on snacks, admired my aunt's Christmas tree, opened presents, and went out for Thai and sushi. We had avocado and cucumber sushi, appetizers and curry.
Then we hit the road for New York City, my cousins and I, leaving my car in my aunt's driveway.
It was dark and drizzly. A passenger, I gazed at Christmas lights as we sped past big tidy houses. It took us half an hour to creep past an accident. We got onto a parkway: no trucks! We told stories and laughed all the way into the city, 2 hours.
Back home 100,000 are without power from the ice storm. The weather was supposed to turn warm and melt all the ice, but instead the freezing rain continued and it got colder. Now my town in coated in a thick layer of ice. Trees are bent and branches hang low, weighted and sorrowful. Branches crack, break, and drop; trees tip over from the weight. They smash and crash on cars and houses. When they land on power lines they darken neighborhoods. People are cold, lighting candles, trying to keep holiday food from spoiling.
I'm in New York City. I can see hundreds of apartment windows and blue sky above. We're in a nice neighborhood, I saw that last night as we circled the block several times in search of a parking spot. There are shops and restaurants down the block. We're going to stroll down there after breakfast.
It's Christmas Eve day and I'm in New York City with my cousins.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
sparkles and angels
T's aura was layers of white sparkly linen or cloud. Layers and layers.
Beneath all the layers was a steady gold light.
There were angels all around.
Beneath all the layers was a steady gold light.
There were angels all around.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Florida vacation
It seemed like a good idea.
It was, at first. I explored. It was easy to get around, and I got around in a new black VW Jetta.
Sun was my plan. Hot sun on a beach with a stack of murder mysteries. A little more summer.
So it didn't turn out like that. It was 2 days of sun with cold breezes, temps in high 60s and 2 days of overcast with temps in mid 70s.
I walked on the beach for an hour every morning. I explored. Went to bird and dolphin sanctuaries. Those are places for wounded birds and dolphins. Went out to eat once daily: Mexican mostly. Italian once. Snacks of yoghurt and grapefruit. Drank hotel room coffee: bland but effective.
Beaches were good, despite clouds and fog. Inland exploration was sunnier but frightening. Found gorgeous botanical park and place of old timey houses with people dressed in old timey clothes. But the alligator warning signs were off-putting. Kept encountering these signs. Loved the flowers, plants, old buildings, old machinery, old lifestyle. But those gator signs. I kept thinking the gator would be right beside the sign. Shocking realization that they could be anywhere. Heightened alligator alert. That was exhausting. Perhaps better at the beach, despite fog.
For the first time in 6 years I didn't check and respond to my work emails daily. That's probably good.
The ocean was right outside my balcony door, palm trees too: also good. Taking a vacation: experts say that is good.
So I did it. I took a vacation. Day 1: awesome. 2: OK. 3: maybe repeat #1? 4: really ready to go home.
I learned: I like parks and museums. I like nature, soul, culture, people, enlightenment, sun, and music. I don't like to feel like my life is at risk from alligators. I learned that it is good to get away, change it up, and do scary stuff. I like to drive.
Will I go back? Maybe somewhere. I like high dry plateaus, sun, people, Reiki, ocean.
It was, at first. I explored. It was easy to get around, and I got around in a new black VW Jetta.
Sun was my plan. Hot sun on a beach with a stack of murder mysteries. A little more summer.
So it didn't turn out like that. It was 2 days of sun with cold breezes, temps in high 60s and 2 days of overcast with temps in mid 70s.
I walked on the beach for an hour every morning. I explored. Went to bird and dolphin sanctuaries. Those are places for wounded birds and dolphins. Went out to eat once daily: Mexican mostly. Italian once. Snacks of yoghurt and grapefruit. Drank hotel room coffee: bland but effective.
Beaches were good, despite clouds and fog. Inland exploration was sunnier but frightening. Found gorgeous botanical park and place of old timey houses with people dressed in old timey clothes. But the alligator warning signs were off-putting. Kept encountering these signs. Loved the flowers, plants, old buildings, old machinery, old lifestyle. But those gator signs. I kept thinking the gator would be right beside the sign. Shocking realization that they could be anywhere. Heightened alligator alert. That was exhausting. Perhaps better at the beach, despite fog.
For the first time in 6 years I didn't check and respond to my work emails daily. That's probably good.
The ocean was right outside my balcony door, palm trees too: also good. Taking a vacation: experts say that is good.
So I did it. I took a vacation. Day 1: awesome. 2: OK. 3: maybe repeat #1? 4: really ready to go home.
I learned: I like parks and museums. I like nature, soul, culture, people, enlightenment, sun, and music. I don't like to feel like my life is at risk from alligators. I learned that it is good to get away, change it up, and do scary stuff. I like to drive.
Will I go back? Maybe somewhere. I like high dry plateaus, sun, people, Reiki, ocean.
love my job
- feel so lucky. Am having a wonderful semester with best kind of students. They are motivated, committed to learning, compassionate, thoughtful, supportive of each other, inquisitive, focused, balanced, articulate, and kind.
- feel so lucky. Have had the best jobs: mom, nurse, and teacher.
- feel so lucky.
- feel so lucky. Have had the best jobs: mom, nurse, and teacher.
- feel so lucky.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Monday, December 2, 2013
Italian
Having lunch at an Italian restaurant in Florida. Everyone is speaking Italian. No English; I hear no English.
I had eggplant parmesan, which was delish, of course, but why do they always bread and deep fry? It's so good grilled or sauteed. Eggplant is good, dense and chewy.
The salad was so so. Iceberg lettuce and tired tomatoes. Prices great, service terrible.
Tiramisu best ever. Italy in Florida.
I had eggplant parmesan, which was delish, of course, but why do they always bread and deep fry? It's so good grilled or sauteed. Eggplant is good, dense and chewy.
The salad was so so. Iceberg lettuce and tired tomatoes. Prices great, service terrible.
Tiramisu best ever. Italy in Florida.
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