Duly Noted

I'm really having too much fun with picmonkey .  Anywho, the snow is coming down after some initial sleet.  Gotta love the wintry mix.  Luckily, I just got back from a neighborhood stroll with Rachel the Dog so she is peacefully contemplating the snowfall from her perch on our very vintage living room coach.  The sofa is three generations at this point and I can't seem to find one that I like more. I mean, check this puppy out: Her 60's floral print actually matches our leather west elm chairs perfectly.  She can fit four plus adults (and multiple dogs). And, she is really comfortable!  I have napped here on many an occasion. Before I head out the door to work up a sweat at the Macalester gym, here's a run down of this weekend's highlights: Vinyasa + Restorative Yoga with my friend Julia.  It wasn't a pre-natal yoga class, but I've known the instructor for many years so she was sensitive to altering some poses for me.  I was surpri...

Mike proudly displays his loot. On the roof. A real baby bump. Christmas cookies. Rachel poses beneath the tree. This is actually from Thanksgiving, but an accurate and timeless display of Vasich game nights.

The self-congratulatory holiday letter.  Did everyone write individual cards by hand until the era of copiers and printers?  I suppose the holiday letter is considered a time saver as composing thirty plus letters before Christmas is an undeniably daunting task.  Additionally, I've been told most people can't even read cursive anymore, so handwritten letters are an effort in vain. I am a sucker for handwritten letters.  Over the years, I have read and re-read published letter collections of authors and cultural icons.  I head down to the basement to read my Grandpa Len's letters and prolific journals every time I visit my parents.  I imagine these writers at their desks in pools of warm light as night colors rise in the sky and their loved ones fiddle with pots and pans in the kitchen.   Mike teased me about my holiday letter conundrum.   "Nothing to be stressed about."   "I'm not stressed- I just want to say something...

  These days, Sunday mornings are usually reserved for church or yoga class, but this Sunday called for a long run.  I was going to go running on Saturday, but decided against it due the freezing cold weather.  Sunday, on the other hand, was gorgeous.  The major highlight of the run was discovering some pond hockey rinks along Minnehaha Creek.  I have noticed a few before but these ones were very nicely composed.  If I have children one day, they will be winter sport athletes, and in terms of spectator appeal, ice hockey is at the top of my list. Rachel relaxes for a moment and takes in the hockey rinks.  She is actually a very competent figure skater. Rachel and I napping in the sun post run.

This is one of my favorite Rachel The Dog photographs of all time.  My friend Joan took the photo on one of our longer runs this December, but the photo could've been from any river run I've ever shared with my willful beast.  Without hesitation, whenever we pass a wall on a run, she leaps up and runs along it with a huge dog smile on her face.  At these moments, I know that Rachel and I are kindred spirits.

Joan, Anne and I rendezvoused at Minneapolis's Chain of Lakes on a bright but windy January 2, 2012.  We decided that we were getting soft due to the abnormally mild temperatures.  As is our custom, we discussed every manner of things: dinner parties with dear friends, our loyal pets, weddings we plan on attending, drinking too much wine on New Years, relocating to different neighborhoods, the joys of spin class, how long the ferry takes between Croatia and Italy, the dilemma of unused gym memberships, the plight to finish grad school on time, when we can run together again... So understandably, even when the fierce wind hit our faces as we headed north around Lake Calhoun and our threesome became quiet in determination, we all agreed that running in the wintertime is totally worth it.  The camaraderie required to simply get out of our cozy houses keeps us smiling and warm through the run and, at least for me, invigorated for hours later.

 To honor the memories of 2011 (despite a reported 7/10 Americans who claimed that 2011 was a bad year) and welcome in 2012, an old friend and neighbor, Sara, Mike, and I decided to host a Mad Men/Sparkles themed New Year's Party.  The night was complete with dancing (thanks to the unexpected hits on the night's playlist alà Mike Vasich), the festive appetizers and treats prepared by the classy hosts and their friends, and the spirits (booze and otherwise) running aplenty. And not to be forgotten, a post midnight jam session in our basement studio, legible and illegible notes in the guest book as well as some interesting observations recorded on the house typewriter, kisses at midnight, and muffins in the morning. I feel such gratitude to have such a lovely group of friends- new and old to welcome in the new year.

The Longfellow Lights Committee gathered Friday evening to put the finishing touches our awards and head out into our neighborhood to determine this year's quality light displays. All members of the committee were filled with cheer including the canines in the party. We took judging very seriously.  Considering all decisions with equal weight. Our first award, a snowman, immediately fell apart and an air of disappointment filled the crisp winter air. Fortunately, the judges took the collapsed award in stride and the evening proved to be a success. Highlights included: a police officer playing holiday music from his loud speaker so we could enjoy a coordinated music/light three house display presenting an award to a homeowner in person.  She was frightened, then overcome with holiday gratitude. an on-looker directing us toward a miracle on 34th street.  (see video included above).  The evening closed with food and spirits ...

Quick films that will make you happy.  Well, they make me REALLY happy. My friend, Sara, linked me to this video knowingly aware of how much I love Christmas pageants.   My husband, with a deep appreciation for my sense of humor, led me to Marcel The Shell.    And...part two: