it occurs to me that if one is invoking the spirit of serendipity because they are hoping it will cause one specific explicit particular exact precise thing to happen that day, they might, in fact, be missing the whole point of serendipity.
and by one, of course, i mean me.
last tuesday night, i hopped into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin.
the sheets get a little messy during the day, what with atlas hopping on and off and on and off the bed, so i used my hands to smooth them out around me.
i felt something hard and round.
i squeezed the hard round thing between my fingers. it was cold (and hard and round) so i figured it was a rock. i wondered why there was a not particularly tiny rock in my bed, but i got out of bed so i could throw it away.
it was not a rock.
it was a hard round cold ball of dog poop.
that is the first thing people do not tell you about having a dog.
the second thing people do not tell you about having a dog is that after years of living with one, this won't even phase you.
you will look rather bemusedly at it (why exactly is there dog poop in my bed? how did it get under my covers?), chuckle at the dog and tell him he's a silly goose, and carry the poop into the bathroom and throw it in the garbage.
then, you will wash your hands three times and go back to bed.
in the morning, you'll wash your bedding, though in all honesty, you won't be sure whether you aren't only washing it because washing the bedding was already on your list of things to do on wednesday.
seriously.
if i were going to write a dog book, this is the dog book i'd want to write: "the things no one tells you about having a dog (& if they did, you wouldn't believe them anyway)".
clearly we haven't been introduced.
my name is atlas. i am a friend to all kitties.
come out from behind the glass and visit me!
i shall love you and sniff you and follow you around adoringly. and we shall be the bestest of friends forever. or at least until you disappear on me.
i went to bed before midnight on new year's eve. yay!
i always want to go to bed before midnight on new year's eve - i am not a night owl - but in the past i have been sneakily coerced into staying awake against my sleepy will.
this new year's eve, i thought about my day and year, spent time with one of my favorite people, ate good food, read most of an excellent book, and went to bed at my usual time.
on new year's day, i ate pie for breakfast, took atlas for a walk in the sunshine, thought about my day and year, spent time with another dear friend, ate more good food, finished the excellent book, and went to bed at my usual time.
life is good. and i am happy.
how are you? really? i'd love to sit next to you and listen.
want to see the faery circle i made next to my front door?
i started making a circle outside my front door this autumn. i'd gather fallen leaves and arrange them in a circle when i left the house for the morning walk with the pup. the trouble was that my leaf circles never lasted very long - pesky winds.
i brought the stones home from the olympic peninsula in may to live in my bathroom sink. they made bathroom tasks feel calmer and more meditative. (also, whenever i spit out my toothpaste, i pretended the white was foam on the rocks. it was very fun.)
one day, i realized that the rocks didn't want to be in my sink anymore. they wanted to be outside again - in nature. they now have a new home. and i have a faery circle that actually stays put.
by the bye, if you love mail, and want a fun option, my friend amy sends postcards with messages from the faeries! my year of faery post expired earlier this year and i miss it so. they always sent me the loveliest messages. most of the postcards are in my desk drawer so i can pull them out and re-read them whenever my spirit needs a hug.
you might wonder if i was driving while i took these pictures. i urge you to put that thought out of your mind. i cannot say that i wasn't, but i do not want to encourage the habit in anyone, most especially me.
fall is definitely over, and winter is definitely here. i have been wearing my thick down jacket and my uggs almost every day, especially on our morning and evening walks. it turns out that if you are warm, you don't mind the chill in the air so much. who knew.
this year, i want to celebrate the winter solstice, but i am not entirely sure how to do so. any good ideas for me? what are your favorite ways to celebrate things?
{my attempt to capture 52 photos that represent trust - my word for 2011}.
this photo represents trust for a few reasons.
one: i do love my home. i feel safe there. safe to be, safe to be me. i've been thinking about the people who will live in this apartment after i leave, whenever that is, and how they are so lucky because they will be getting a space that will be full of the most amazing energy.
two: for a long while now, i've been idly wondering how to bring more light into my living room. a few weeks ago, i had a vision of a canopy of twinkle lights. oh my goodness, the vision was beautiful. as is usual, the vision looked slightly different in my head (slightly more magical, i must confess) than it did in reality - it might need a few more tweaks before i am done - but the lights definitely add even more warmth and coziness to the long dark evenings.
three: i am trusting that time and energy spent on this project is not a distraction from the millions of other projects i could be working on in each moment - that working on it is helping with everything else i do, even if i cannot see how just yet.
won't you come for a walk with puppy and me?
oh, how i wish you could.
the sun is shining. the air is crisp. it is the perfect day to be outside and let the calm of the world around us soothe the chaos inside of us.
before i head out the door, a couple of quick announcements:
if you wish your life had a pause button so you could rest a bit, check out the pause. there's a special on through the end of december and i do have some openings.
also, i added the november/december collection of prints to the shop. they are joy, peace, and gratitude.
happy thursday!
which has nothing to do with anything, only i felt like sharing it.
apparently i am on an iphone kick. i took my iphone and atlas on an errand to the light bulb store on mississippi ave and then we wandered around the neighborhood afterward. does that second photo not make you think of the book the secret garden? i thought so.
remember when i shared my opinions about diet coke and pickles? well, here's the next topic that needs to be discussed. it is pumpkin and raisins, people; not pumpkin and chocolate chips.
everywhere i go, every autumn, there are pumpkin-y things that include chocolate. i do not understand this combination. it's too sweet and too dry (the dry part probably makes no sense to anyone but me but i can't think of a better way to explain it).
pumpkin and raisins, on the other hand, are a perfect combination. it is not too sweet and the raisins make the dough a little juicy. my most favorite cookies in the world are pumpkin raisin cookies. i can eat an entire batch in one sitting. sometimes i do. (i suppose that's obvious, or else i wouldn't know that i could.)
i used to discuss this with the great harvest bread store. every year, they made a pumpkin bread with chocolate chips. every year, i would explain to them that it needed to include raisins, not chocolate chips. alas, they never quite agreed. sometimes they agreed that raisins would be good, but they said that people really seemed to like the chocolate.
i find this so strange. why would you eat pumpkin and chocolate when you could eat pumpkin and raisins? pumpkin and raisins for everyone, i say!
i have decided that the definition for woebegone needs to include a picture of atlas wearing a t-shirt. doesn't he look miserable? i hated to do it, but he had a wound that needed to heal and would not stop licking it, and i finally got tired of shouting no at him.
if i ever wonder why i cannot get my dream bedding, i just need to look at this picture of muddy paw prints on the bed. (i feel like this photo does not even do the mud justice.) why is it that a) my brilliant rainy day ideas always involve a very wet and muddy dog and b) the same wet and muddy dog likes to dry himself off on my bed? i suspect that pre-atlas-me would think current-me has lost her sanity because current-me just looks at the paw prints and smiles because she is so happy that she has an atlas pup to track mud on the bed.
