the plot is not my own

I haven't read poetry in a long time. Not because I don't love it, I do. 

Most of it.

It's more that most poetry doesn't fulfill me in the way that fiction does. It doesn't transport me so completely. And at this point, if what I'm reading doesn't transport me, doesn't transfix and insert me into the easy machinations of the story, I don't have the head space for it. I want to be transported, taken into another world, another life.

It's not that I don't love my life. I do. But at the end of the day, I want to experience something else, something fresh and unknown. Even if the story or the characters aren't fresh, they're new to me. The plot is not my own.

But tonight Djuna pulled Turneresque by Elizabeth Willis off the shelf and brought it over for me to read to her. This is her new thing. She brings me books, plonks herself in my lap, and sits still for 5, 10, 15 second stretches before she's off again, in search of the next book. (We are raising another reader for sure).

So as I flipped through pages of my old poetry teacher's book, I happened upon a poem that reminded me of being in my early twenties again. Of that feeling that I was living with all the unknown ahead of me. Every day an adventure, every book or movie or song a life I might live or emulate.

untitled by Elizabeth Willis

The day left off with a kind of singing "bang." Golden-
rod in a small sea-like air, specific and unbroken. I cannot
favor hunger or its alternatives. I cannot describe salt. In
a parallel universe does anything intersect the confused
blossoming blueness of a wall that is not sea, not golden-
rod, but the paper fastenings of you, standing against it?
I favor concrete between our rage and its mirage. Its
broken line. Catch the flying saucer but spit out its metal
mystery. Adore the big green nothing of the past, the
rationing of calm late in the century, like the arches of a
brick heart, letting go.


[image: Joseph Mallord William Turner (1775-1851), The Burning of the Houses of Parliament, from Old Palace Yard, with Westminster Abbey, c. 1834; watercolor and gouache with scraping-out and stopping-out on paper, 55 x 80]

happy birthday, djuna baby

Djuna on her first birthday

A year ago, after a quick 3 hour labor, our Djuna was born. I have been thinking about that birth experience all day. After weeks of waiting and getting increasingly tired of being pregnant, I was joyful to finally be in labor. I felt powerful, so different than when I gave birth to Stella. Giving birth isn't easy, but looking back I can remember starting to push and thinking I can do this, my body is strong, I can do this...

In some ways that ease and assurance has carried over into Djuna's first year. She is very much the second child. There is less intense one-on-one time with her because our attentions are always so fractured.

I hear myself say "she'll be fine" all the time after falls, face-plants, and crying jags. It's a nonchalance that only comes when you've seen a first child survive the mishaps of the first year and beyond. "Let her figure it out," is another phrase I find myself repeating.

She's showing signs of being more independent than Stella was at one. Part of this is due to the fact that she's been walking for two months already (a full 3 months sooner than Stella).

Djuna (Djunes, Djunie, Djuna baby, Pooms) loves greeting people with a smile and a wave, watching dogs, and gazing out our front windows. She is generally pretty content, but is quick to tell us when she doesn't like or want something. She likes swinging and exploring at the park. She spits out a lot of foods, but seems to dig cherries and sausage. She loves Stella but usually wiggles away from her hugs. She blows pretty sweet kisses.

Happy birthday, Djunes!

jet-lagged

We're back!

This photo was taken at 7:30am at the park yesterday. The girls woke us up at 3am and refused to go back to sleep, despite our many attempts. By the time we got to the park we'd already eaten breakfast, stopped for coffee and croissants (Stella must be going through another growth spurt because she is eating every 30 minutes) in the city, and dropped Jordan off at work.

This morning they woke up at 3:40am. I managed to get Djuna back to sleep, but Stella and I were up eating breakfast again at 4:30am.

Jet lag is no joke. It is going to be another LONG day.

Have a lovely weekend!

be back soon... and friday links

Kara Rosenlund's "Sea," via Cup of Jo

We are headed to the south of France and Berlin for two weeks, so the old blog will be neglected for a bit while we are away. I am excited to get away with family, and visit with dear friends we haven't seen in awhile, but I'm totally dreading the flights and traveling with a newly-walking toddler. When do vacations with kids become relaxing?

See you in a few weeks!

Pan-roasted chicken with harissa chickpeas.

My friends Melissa on SFGirlByBay!

Remember Sarah? Her site, Speed4Sarah, just launched. Consider donating to help find a cure for ALS.

One of Stella's favorite activities? Taking photos.

I'm not grossed out by armpit hair on women, are you? Truthfully, I often grow mine out, and I find it quite sexy on other women.

How Powerful Is Your Passport?

This pretty much sums up my daily uniform.

How a woman's plan to kill herself helped her family grieve.

Josey Baker Builds a Bakery. 

(Happy Birthday to my Dad!!)

the week in brief + friday fun links

Crab Cove, Alameda

The week in brief:

Djuna is walking (if 6 steps count... I think that's walking). Stella, out of the blue, started drawing stick figures (heads with eyes, a nose, and mouth, arms, and legs) yesterday. Jordan is flying home today from a 5-day business trip (hurray!). Me and my friend Shayna are always in sync. My Dad finishes up his second AIDS ride in LA tomorrow (again, hurray!). It's going to be a good weekend.

A few fun links...

On happiness

The arugula in my garden is providing us with salad greens every day of the week. I'm adding Ashley's Easy Squash Salad for Summer to the menu for next week.

Chef's Night Out with State Bird Provisions

Is Your Free Time "Contaminated"?

One of my fave Instagram feeds

Nonsense Names: The Rise of Restaurant Gibberish

Why We Laugh: The fascinating science behind your giggle fits

r.i.p maya angelou

[via Garance Doré]

life is a glorious thing + friday links

It has been an emotional week. Last Friday night a friend's husband died unexpectedly. There are no words to describe the immeasurable loss and subsequent outpouring of love that we have witnessed for her and their young son and their family over the past seven days. His death has made me pause often, tell those around me that I love them, and hold tightly onto my family and friends.

Life is a fragile, precious, glorious thing. It is good to be reminded. 

Happy weekend.

Get Your Shit Together. (thanks, Shayna)

I love Sophie Calle. Forever.

The perfect weekend bag.

Brian Eno.

I am usually one to roll my eyes and make fake gagging sounds at food restrictions, but now that I've gone dairy, nut, and tomato free for Djuna's sake I'm actually considering buying this cookbook. Crazy? Maybe.

Are the French Better at Sex?

I found my perfect jumpsuit. (thanks for the treat, Mom!)

Though I am, and always have been, a morning person, the upside of being a night owl.

[image: Guillaume Ziccarelli; 2014 Sophie Calle/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York, ADAGP, Paris ; Paula Cooper Gallery and Galerie Perrotin]

trip anticipation

We were on the plane en route to France and Turkey for our honeymoon when I turned to Jordan and said: "I'm already feeling so sad about the end of our trip... Where should we go next?!" The trip had barely begun and I was already mourning the return home.

I am a planner. I love to create itineraries, think about the food we will eat, the art and architecture we will see, and imagine myself in a new or well-loved far-off place. I pack and unpack my suitcase 10 times in my head before my suitcase is even opened. I read guidebooks and articles, research restaurants and coffee shops, map out unique stores, bookstores, and boutiques. That is, I did all of those things before having kids. It's a little harder now to plan; plans don't often turn out as expected with children. That has been a hard lesson to learn for this planner.

So, of course, I laughed and nodded my head when my Mom pulled out Stephanie Rosenbloom's article What a Great Trip! And I'm Not Even There Yet at our weekly coffee date on Tuesday and said "this is SO US." The article describes us, me and my Mom, perfectly. We relish the anticipation, the longing for travel and new experiences, while the reality, oftentimes, is the trip itself is mired down by the day-to-day: the weather, exhaustion, a bad unplanned meal.

Turns out, there is an art to anticipation. Savoring, said Elizabeth Dunn, an associate professor of psychology at the University of British Columbia and a leading happiness researcher, is an active, not passive, process. “It’s better to immerse yourself,” she said. Reading novels and poetry, watching films and television programs, browsing fashion and design blogs that are either from or about the place you plan to visit encourages you to not only learn about your destination, but to dream, providing some concrete details for your mind to latch on to. It may sound counterintuitive, but this building up of positive expectations and excitement actually helps our minds smooth over any minor discrepancies if reality doesn’t quite measure up to the fantasy. “We’re less likely to be bothered by these little holes if we build up our expectations ahead of time,” Professor Dunn said. “So go ahead and assume it’s going to be wonderful.”

What about you? Do your travels live up to the ones you imagine and create in your head prior to the trip itself?

[image: cara lou of we do iceland]

happy mother's day + friday links

Uta Barth, Deep Blue Day

Happy Friday!

A few links to kick off the weekend...

Looks like I'm dairy-free for the long haul. These sesame soba noodles and grilled salmon are becoming regulars on our dinner table.

Ken Burns does The Roosevelts.

The delicious simplicity of rice and beans.

Hello, sandal weather.

Gorgeous ring.

My current beer fave: Go to IPA.

The Moth: Momofuku's David Chang talks Michelin stars.

The book I just finished. 

And what I'm reading next.

Alan Cumming on Fresh Air.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp Bars.

Loving this necklace.

Selling the Myth of the Ideal Mother.

Happy Mother's Day to my amazing Mom, and to all the wonderful and inspiring mamas in my life.

dinner plans: cumin lamb meatballs

 

What are you having for dinner tonight?

I'm making Melissa Clark's amazing cumin lamb meatballs with tahini yogurt dipping sauce that my friend Shayna told me about last month. We had them a few weeks ago and the meatballs were such a hit. Stella kept asking for more, and there were no leftovers the next day. I'm going to serve them over pearl couscous, with pickled cucumbers, and an arugula, golden beet, goat cheese salad. My mouth is watering already.

[image: Evan Sung for The New York Times]

all is possible

Oh, hey there.

After reading this blog post about the death of the blog back in December, I took stock. Did I enjoy blogging? Sometimes. Do people read/enjoy my blog? Yes, a few. Do I have time to commit to writing and curating in this way? Sometimes; though most of my internet activity happens on my phone and most typing is done with one hand while nursing...which is why Instagram is so satisfying these days. As my posts were getting less and less frequent, I figured a full break from the blog might be in order. And it was so easy to just stop.

Then on Friday night Jordan sat down at the dinner table and said "I need to have a serious talk with you." My heart dropped. "About your blog," he continued. I laughed. Oh, blog... He then proceeded to guilt encourage me to start writing again. For myself. For our girls. As a testament to this life we live together. I listened. So here I am.

Spring has arrived in Oakland, and with it the possibility of a new season. In the spirit of spring, I'm sharing Dvořák's Quartet #12 (the American String Quartet), which I heard on the radio this morning, and which has always filled me a happy wonder and sense that all is possible.

beer tasting at hog's apothecary

One of my gifts to Jordan this Christmas was a beer tasting. I contacted the great folks at Hog's Apothecary, a newish beer hall in Oakland, and they loved the idea of select beer flights with food to highlight the beer flavors. Last night we went in for our tasting and food pairing and the beverage director at Hog's provided a little backstory and commentary about each of the beers as they were brought to us. We loved the interesting bits of beer information and hearing about, and then tasting, the flavor notes of each.

Beer highlights included the Heavenly Hefe (Craftsman), and for us hop-lovers Simcoe Galaxy IPA (Cellarmaker) and our favorite of the night, Double Tap (Berryessa). We also tasted Craftsman's Holiday Ale (a nice red ale with spruce tips) and Old Ale (an oak-aged ale that tasted too much like a sour wine for our liking), and the 2013 Smoked Porter (too smoky for our taste) from Alaskan Brewing Company.

Food highlights were the Hog's Head Terrine, an Avocado and Citrus Little Gems Salad, Marrow Bones with toast and tomato jam, and Smoked Ham Hock Collard Greens. 

We had such an awesome evening, and we can't wait to go back! Next time I'm trying the Lamb Poutine and housemade sausages for sure...

the goldfinch

The Goldfinch... holy shit. I savored the last 20 pages of pure writing gold, dog-earring page after page with passages to revisit and savor again. I would copy each sublime paragraph here if there was enough room or enough time in the day. But I will settle for this bit:

"And I'm hoping there's some larger truth about suffering here, or at least my understanding of it--although I've come to realize that the only truths that matter to me are the ones I don't, and can't, understand. What's mysterious, ambiguous, inexplicable. What doesn't fit into a story, what doesn't have a story. Glint of brightness on a barely-there chain. Patch of sunlight on a yellow wall. The loneliness that separates every living creature from every other living creature. Sorrow inseparable from joy.

... And--maybe it's ridiculous to go on in this vein, although it doesn't matter since no one's ever going to see this--but does it make any sense at all to know that it ends badly for all of us, even the happiest of us, and that we all lose everything that matters in the end--and yet to know as well, despite all this, as cruelly as the game is stacked, that it's possible to play it with some kind of joy?"

Now I have to figure out what to read next... Someone? Instructions for a Heatwave? The Signature of All Things?
What are you reading now?

mothering with ALS

Sarah and her family, photo by Lisa Leckie

Sarah Coglianese, a friend and old co-worker, was diagnosed with ALS last year. She recently wrote this lovely and heartwrenching piece for the New York Times Motherlode blog about teaching her daughter that she can do anything, physically and otherwise, as her own body is failing her and she is physically able to do less and less. Sarah's blog, The Scarlett Letters, is also a wonderful read.

cheers to december

Hello to December, one of my favorite months of the year. I love the holidays: the chill in the air, the smell of pine needles, baking, twinkly lights, Charlie Brown Christmas on repeat, old traditions and new ones. It's a month of celebrations, of birthdays and family gatherings, made all the more memorable and magical with an almost three-year-old. So cheers to all that...

A few links:

We're on day 2 of this adorable advent calendar.

Yayoi Kusama's Mirrored Room looks beautiful.

I (finally) started Donna Tartt's The Goldfinch over the weekend. The book has been sitting on my bedside table since the day it was released, but I hadn't felt ready to crack the spine until this past Saturday. I'm only 50 pages in, but I'm loving the language and the imagery so far. Take a look at the interview with Tartt over at Powells.com.

Applesauce Carrot Bread with Pecan Streusel. Yum!

This place has become one of our favorite date night spots.

It is silly how long I've been looking for a cute pair of booties. I've been so tempted by clog booties, but when I admired them on Marisa Haskell a few weeks ago she told me all about how hers are stiff and unforgiving. I just don't have the time or the patience to break in a new pair of booties. And, frankly, spending beaucoup $ on a pair of shoes that are so uncomfortable I might never wear them is just not an option. These are the ones I've chosen (in Navy suede). Fingers crossed.

life at 35

After a 20 day hiatus, I'm back! 

During my absence I turned 35. We celebrated with the ice cream cake of my dreams and my cousin Richard's delicious pecan chocolate pie, a potluck feast, 25 friends and family and kid mayhem. Everyone who came went home a little bag with the potluck recipes. My friend Devon designed the cards, collected all the recipes ahead of time, and printed and stuffed the burlap bags. Such a treat.

Birthday potluck recipe bag

As I enter year 35, I feel so very lucky. I am surrounded by great friends whom I love and respect and admire. My parents are so close that we see them every week for dinner and farmer's market meetups and coffee dates. I have two sweet, funny girls who make life wonderfully meaningful. I am married to my love. And in spite of my blossoming crow's feet, I still feel the bloom of youth in my heart.

happy friday links

Sheeps by Meagan Donegan

I can't wait to read the new Donna Tartt.

Cookies! Shayna texted me about these yesterday and Stella and I promptly set to work making them.  We put in half the curry recommended but added cardamom and chocolate chips as we didn't have shredded coconut. They're so good!

On the topic of cookies... How Oreos Work Like Cocaine.

Ads use Real Google Searches to Show the Scope of Sexism Worldwide.

Are you watching the new season of Homeland? I'm continually impressed by how the creators of this show make each character's point of view so very believable. And the acting! 

Abandoned: Mark Twain Branch Detroit Public Library.

Hurray for a new Wes Anderson film.

Ace Hotel now in Shoreditch.

Banksy NYC.

on getting older

I still get carded occasionally. 

Two summers ago when we were in Michigan I ran out to the store to get lighter fluid and and a lighter for the bbq. I forgot to bring my ID and when I told this to the cashier, the teen asked me, in all seriousness, if I was over 18. "I'm over 30 if it makes a difference," I told him. "No way..." he said, again, in all seriousness. I paused to gauge if he was for real. "Way," I told him. As I walked out with my lighter fluid I felt at once imbued with a youthful glee (he thought I was 18!) and an adult apprehension (shit, do I look and dress like an 18-year-old?!).

Over the weekend I was buying beer and was again carded at the register. The woman ringing me up looked at my ID, looked up at me, looked back at my ID and said, "you look like you could be my age." Oh great, here we go I thought. "Oh really," I said pleasantly, "how old are you?" "I be 30," she said with a nod of her head. "Okay..." I replied. "That's cool..." 

30, huh? Must be having a second kid. My age seems to be catching up with me.

[painting: hope gangloff]

a few weekend links

YUM.

I turn 35 in November. Gah! I think I'm going to make this ice cream cake to celebrate. Nothing says happy birthday like an ice cream cake, right?!

Eat, Pray, Love, Get Rich, Write A Novel No One Expects.

Super cute kids sandals.

I'm seriously crushing on these Ali Golden bags. My friend Melissa has one and every time I see her I covet it...

Saying goodbye at preschool has been a challenge. I appreciated this Motherlode post on easing the transition and separation anxiety.

This adorable book is one of our favorites at the moment.

TED Talk 2012 Flashback: Chip Kidd. Designing books is no laughing matter. OK, it is.

Can't wait to go to this new Oakland beer hall.

Fall is in the air. The dusklight sweater.

Domino Magazine is back.

[photograph credit: ashley of not without salt]

period of adjustment

We are in the middle of a big period of adjustment... Djuna's arrival. Stella starting preschool in September.

Over the past few weeks we've seen more Stella meltdowns than ever before. Overall, Stella is handling Djuna's presence beautifully. She gives her kisses and loves, and so far she hasn't asked us to send her back. But she loses her shit over the smallest things. Developmentally, Stella is right on track. She desperately desires routine and predictability. She wants to be heard and understood but allowed to change her mind at will. Her world is in upheaval and she is doing her best to find her footing, connect with us, and have her voice heard amidst the chaos.

Getting them to both nap at the same time is proving to be a challenge. Yesterday it took me two hours to get Stella to fall asleep in the afternoon. On Friday I finally gave up after an hour and a half of trying, which culminated in Stella chanting "Mommmmyyyyy" in her room over and over and over again and Djuna puking breast milk all over me and our bed. Ah, the glories of parenthood.

So while we adjust and work towards some kind of balance, I might be less present here on this old blog. But I'll be back...