Cold Weather Comforts

There's something incredibly comforting about homemade meals, familiar woods, and family. Having gone without my family for so long, it still strikes me sometimes how nice it is to be able to jump in a car and just go home. Of course, that home isn't the one I grew up in - but it is still the place that holds my old journals, my high school albums, and the detritus of the many lives I've already lived. Here's some of what I've been doing this weekend:

First, I've made unhealthy and glorious things.

Preparations for mac 'n cheese: (1) cut up insane amounts of cheese. 

(2) Create a cream-based sauce, and add more cheese to it.

(3) Forget that you're about to eat eight pounds' worth of cheese.

Holiday balls made from pages from Dante's Inferno. Surely it's okay to mix a fiery epic about the circles of hell with N'Sync's "Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday"?

Second, I've finally gone running and communed with some woods. I've had the opportunity, lately, to teach the work of some of my favorite tree huggers: specifically Emerson and Thoreau. As I ran through these woods by the Chesapeake, I kept hearing these words:

 

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion." 

- Thoreau (= awesome)

I've also been watching the 2010 movie version of Macbeth (again) and trying to figure out how to make the play more fun and intelligible. This is what happened when I broke out my felt tip:

Those are some high quality stick men in tartan.

I'm Writing To: "Lay Me Down", by The Oh Hello's

America and Awesome Things

I've just moved back to America after a very, very long absence. I'm still getting used to being here... because the US of A is a little overwhelming. 

No offense, homeland; you know I love you. I'm just saying that living in Australia has illuminated some of your quirks. Why do we talk so loudly on the street? Why are we so obsessed with the weather, and what's with all the parking meters? It's not that these are bad things (although, dear Mother Country, there are moments when I want to punch you). I just don't feel like a part of the tapestry yet. It's a strange and discomfiting experience to find that 'home' doesn't feel like it did when you left it.

So I took myself for a walk through lovely Annapolis, Maryland and was reminded of a book my friend Lyndsey put me onto called The Book of Awesome. I haven't read it yet, but I'm subscribed to the website and enjoy the weekly emails immensely. The book originated from a blog chronicling 1,000 small, everyday things the writer thought were awesome. Things like running hugs; finding money in the pocket of pants you haven't worn in a while; finding your lost keys in the very first place you look. These emails always make me laugh because the writing is smart and funny, and because they remind me how many awesome things in life there are to celebrate. Here are some of mine from Annapolis. 

The hugely satisfying CRUNCH of shriveled fall leaves underfoot.

Going into a shop on a whim and finding exactly what you didn't know you were looking for. (A turn-of-the-century hessonite ring, in case you're wondering.) 

Rediscovering a place you used to know and having it feel like it's the first time.

A stranger stopping to tell you how beautiful your photo's going to be, just because they feel like it.