I feel like Adam and I are taking these great little steps. My writing is inching along in quite beautiful ways*, and Adam is moving in the direction of Industrial/Product Design school. Yup! I am proud and excited. Financing all this will be an adventure, so send your prayers our way, friends. It’s an adventure I’m looking forward to.

Until then, we’ll go on learning to recognize
what we love, and what it takes
to tend what isn’t for our having.
-Li-Young Lee

Amen.

*Let me know if you’d like to help me edit the first 37 pages of my next book. I need all the help I can get.

Hi, friends. The tomatoes are growing, the fireflies are glowing, at the internet has vanished from the Whitlock apartment. It makes my posts here much shorter and less frequent, but I don’t mind. It gives me a reason to sit at coffee shops, and lets me find new ways to waste away my time. The other day I spent a half hour laying on the bed blowing bubbles at the ceiling. I’ll take that over blogging any day.

The most delightful things I’ve spent my internetless days on are reading The Idiot, running into Jonah, writing, eating juneberries, doing yoga and drinking fresh, delicious milk in wine glasses on the porch with Tiffany. And before the elderblossems all wilt away, I want to put some on a sandwich and eat it. I hear you can do that.

Oh, good days. So much happening, so much growing and being discovered. Summer is sweet, I tell you. Do yourself a favor. Find a juneberry tree. Buy good milk. And share it.

“I had always wanted to be an explorer, though I didn’t know it at the time.”

I have started typing up the first part of the novel I’m working on. This will be a longer one, so I’m doing it in chunks, rather than scribbling the whole thing out and then going back to type it up. That line, the first line, is what the whole story sprang from. This particular character has been a pleasure to work with, and an entirely good influence on me. I just know you’ll like him.

Publishing the children’s book has been going slowly, which one can expect, I suppose. But in the last week at work, I discovered I had a small wealth of a couple people at the coffee shop who have connections in the literary world and would like to help me a bit along the way. Their expressed support alone is worth gold.

In other news, the strawberries are ripe. I bought a couple quarts at the farmer’s market this morning and have great plans for some afternoon strawberry shortcake, and perhaps some jam. I also got fresh peas, cucumber, and a loaf of sourdough bread. June is such a nice time for eating!

Last week, the air smelt like flowers all over. Now, when I open the windows, I get a whiff of sun on big, young leaves. I think this is very nice.

Yesterday, I went out for a drink with some friends from work. We guessed what people’s secrets were.

“Do you have a secret?” they asked me.

I didn’t know. Do you have a secret?

It’s been so sunny and colourful these days.  Oh, where did I put the camera?
Walking to the co-op to buy some juice, yesterday, I ran into Jonah, who is still a bit of a stranger, and also quite a friend.  In the usual fashion, we abandoned our tasks and walked for an hour barefoot on the grass, talking about food, society and friendship.  Chance encounters are absolutely one of my favourite things.  I’d like to spend some time walking slowly and cultivating all sorts of them.

Today I bought plants at the market and put them in pots on the porch.  My fingernails are full of dirt.  Playing in dirt might be another one of my favourite things.

Sunny days, barefoot walks, potting soil.  I love this time of year.

Today is a very important day. If I had a calender, today would have five circles and three hearts around it. That’s how important it is. It is also quite possibly my very favourite holiday. And not just because I get to bake cake. No, that’s just a perk, really. The important part of today is that 24 years ago, Adam was born, and I am so glad he was!

I hope all your birthday wishes come true, dear.

Three cheers for my wonderful husband!

Dear winter,

March is less than a week away, and though you are a time period, not a conscious being, I want to be sure to say thank you before I get caught up in my excitement for spring.

You were so beautiful this year with your piles of snow, cold wind, and icy trees. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so stunning. It’s hasn’t been the best weather for sitting outside, but that’s part of why I like you so much. I like how the streets get quiet when you’re here. The introvert in me delights in the solitude you bring to this lively town. With you, there is always so much space to think and be quiet and alone. Thank you for that.

Thank you for turning my cheeks pinks when I walk to work and giving me the chance to bundle up in soft mittens and wool coats. I like how good warm things feel when you are around: fireplaces, heat vents, hot soup, and roasted winter vegetables. I like not having to wince about turning on the oven. If it wasn’t for you, my homemade bread wouldn’t have improved nearly as much as it did the last few months.

I am glad you exist, winter. I’ve enjoyed you so much this year, and I know that without you, spring wouldn’t taste nearly so sweet. I will drink up the last drops of you, and then see you next year.

Oh, and thank you for that soft pinkish blue light you have.

Always,
Lindsey

(Thank you, God, for wintertime)

waking up to blue

Blue is all around me these days. I wake up to the blue light of early winter mornings, sit by a blue wall, heat water in my blue kettle, make tea in my blue pot and drink it from my blue cup. I look into the blue eyes of my husband. I catch glimses of my own in the mirror. Blue is everywhere this February.

I love the quiet blue carries. It is my companion these days, and something of a friend.

I feel like scribbling out some sort of self-reflection right now. Resolutions for this New Year are just beginning to form. I want to talk about dreaming, hoping, humility, life. But I don’t know much about these things, today, just the small, necessary pieces I have carried with me this winter. Perhaps I will have more to say when I befriend the greenness of spring.

Happy blue February, friends. Spring is almost here.

Yeah. It’s grey and freezy. But this morning the sun came out and lit up the thick frost on the tall branches by the lake. I think I really dig January.

This month has not been the wildest month of my life. It’s been a simple month. Waking up and doing dishes. Serving coffee. Writing. Reading. Kissing. Talking with friends. Pleasant conversations. Sometimes I wonder if it’s even okay for me to work part-time and write. I could be making so much more money, earning so many credits right now. But I like the simple life I’m living so thoroughly. Is that even okay?

(of course it is)

This weekend, I’m off to Deerfield for a girls’ weekend while a dear, dear friend of mine gets a yoga instructing certificate. The men are going drinking. I’m so excited.

See you on the other side, friends.

When Adam first suggested it, I was strongly opposed. I feel like it takes away a books individuality or something. It seemed unloving to the books. Or disrespectful. If I published a book, I wouldn’t want to see it on a colour coordinated shelf. I’d want to see it coffee-stained and jostled around in a purse or sitting by a bedside. But I figured, why not? I can always disorganize them again.

I have to say, it looks pretty neat (way neater than the picture suggests). And reorganizing the books was rather satisfying. It was like a puzzle. It got me better aquainted with my husband’s half of the books and made me see my own books in a different way.

It was a nice project. I should reorganize bookshelves more often. Any suggestions on how to arrange them the next time around?