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20 minute writing practice

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 I am trying something new.  I set my timer for 20 minutes.  I haven't been writing or journaling for months (years?).  I so enjoy it yet there never seems to be enough time to formulate what to say in the way I want to say it.  Yet, I am truly my own gatekeeper here, not time herself.  So, I'm trying a new kind of writing practice.  I will give myself the gift of twenty minutes.  No more, no less- with the assignment of simply moving words from my brain to the page.  With only twenty minutes, I can't edit myself, get stuck on searching for the exact word, or any of the nonsense that prevents me from writing and sharing in this space. My favorite astrologist suggested that I look back 8 years ago and reflect on the journey that I began at that time.  8 years ago was 2013.  8 years ago was the birth of my first child and my crossing into motherhood.  What journey did I begin?  Where did I set out go and where did it take me as a result?  I set out to begin parenthood with th
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Covid & Hawthorns

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About three months ago, give or take, I began talking to house plants.  This is new for me; caressing the patterned green leaves and asking them if they were happy.  Years ago, I affectionately observed my dearest college roommate addressing her plants by their given names-  Good morning Miss Spiderly-  but I didn't consider the possibility of real connection.   Certainly, I've felt deep spiritual release in the great natural world- coastal trails in Northern California, Utah's unworldly arches and rock formations, the salty taste of ocean waves anywhere and everywhere.  But house plants alluded me. For a thirty-something birthday, a friend with a green thumb gifted me a snake plant in a sweet vintage pot.  I set the plant in front of our bedroom window and tried not to over-water it.  Over time, she started to outgrow the painted pot.  Maybe she likes it here.   Hopeful, I purchased a hanging plant at the co-op, another at Menard's, and received two more as gi
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A New Kind Of Marathon Training

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I have been doing a lot of running lately.  It is unlikely that this surprises anyone, my family least of all.  But this training cycle is a bit different.  My sights are set on Moose Mountain Marathon, the shortest distance of the three fall superior races.  I have run a few trail races including the spring Superior 25k (an out and back that covers that last portion of the fall races), but this is my first trail marathon and it could take me upwards of seven hours so I need my body in tip top trail specific condition.  Fortunately, my longtime running buddy Rose is an ultra-runner.  For the last few years, Rose has been encouraging me to sign up and train for a longer trail race.  "If you can run a road marathon, you can run a trail ultra," says Rose.  I've been hesitant to commit for a few reasons: 1) time it takes to train for a trail race (driving time to trails + more time running=more time away from home) 2) amount of energy it takes to train for longer distance
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Feeling Stuck

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It is always mid to late February when the stir crazy bubbles up.  I begin to wonder: What am I doing?  Why are we still living here?  How come everything feels so boring? So meaningless?   I blame it mostly on the weather; sludgy on the outside...equally sludgy on the inside.  I spend time blaming myself too; only boring people are bored.  That's what they say, right?  I travel to the land of I shoulds.  Dr. Seuss talks about this land in Oh!  The Places You'll Go.   Remember that book your Aunt bought you for 8th grade graduation?  To be honest, growing up, I never liked that book.  What do you mean you'll get stuck in the dumps?  In the land of waiting?  I didn't get it.  Life was pretty wide open and forward for my first 30 years.   Now, with two young children of my own and a little Bungalow that I've called home for over seven years, I resonate with our quirky Seussian hero.  I am familiar with slumps, bumps, and dumps.  And I sure don't like living the
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Weekly Menu- 5/30-6/3

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Obviously, all menu planning is tentative this week as we wait for our baby girl to arrive.  Not to mention, this weekend is my 10 year Macalester reunion!  I have a bunch of friends in town, but I have no idea but if/when/how I will see anyone.  I am sure the near and dear friends will drop by if our late bloomer is born, but everything is up in the air.  Luckily, the last few years of motherhood have taught me to accept this state and let go of the imagined control I like to think I have.  I can make plans and move forward without disappointment if they don't work out.  That said, it's especially easy to move on if the plan involves Thursday night rotini, and a whole lot tougher if it involves true loss. I swear I wasn't planning to philosophize when I began this post. :) Monday Memorial Day BBQ Tuesday Chicken Orzo Salad  (subbing feta for the goat cheese) Wednesday Veggie Enchiladas with avocado cream sauce Thursday Rotini w/homemade sauce (ground turkey)
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Post Due Date Dreaming

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I was going to write :"our little nugget's due date came and went," but she isn't a nugget anymore!  Not even close!  She is feeling like a real baby in there!  All knees and elbows.  Regardless, her due date came and went on Wednesday.  This wasn't a surprise for anyone, including me, although I was hoping that maybe she would make an unexpected appearance in the days leading up to May 25th.  The good news is that Mike is done teaching for the year and I decided to make Tuesday my last day, so we have been enjoying some time together with Misha at daycare.  These past couple of days have been rather peaceful as we have finished some projects (our basement guest room is ready!), started some new ones (Mike is replacing all outlets- he is on a total home repair kick), whipped up some desserts (strawberry shortcakes with ricotta filling, one of my favorites), and organized stuff (like an electronics drawer- found an undeveloped one-use camera from 2010...curious
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38 weeks....

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Yesterday, on the stairmaster, an article in Parents magazine directed me to listen to the podcast Pregnancy Confidential ; each episode zooms in on one week of pregnancy.  Naturally, I tuned into week 38.  The hosts captured my attention immediately: "Week 38: You're probably feeling pretty desperate to get that baby out, and really terrified of the possibility that the baby might come out."  They hit the nail on the head.  I described this idea to Mike, and he said, "Well, not terrified ,  right? "  I suppose he is right, "terrified" is not exactly the right word.  It's more like, soon our lives will be forever changed.   It's a big deal. I feel very similar to how I felt as I waited for Misha, varying between: a) I can't WAIT to be NOT PREGNANT! b) Trying to stay in present in the moment- wrapping up the school year and appreciating time with Misha and Mike...the miracle feeling elbows and knees pushing on my rib cage. c) Peaking ov
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