-The book I’m working on is getting to the point where it feels like work, the point where I have to push through and sweat it out and tap my pens on my paper a lot. But I like that.

- After a hot day, I sprawled out in bed beside the fan and read late into the night. When I finished my book, I was still too captivated by it to sleep. I hovered between living and dreaming for a while, and found myself remembering smells that I had long forgotten. For a moment, they were as real to me as ever before, as were the memories around them. And in that remembering, I made a bit more sense to myself.

-The book I read was The Idiot. I don’t think I’ve read anything better.

-When it’s too hot out, I tend to feel sick and forget to eat.

-Adam is at the dentist.

-It is nice to have no internet in the summertime.

I love this part of summer. The breezy dresses. Sleeping sprawled beside the breeze of a lazy fan. Staying up late with friends. Drinking outside. Eating outside. Being sweaty. Long days. Slow walking. Ripe berries. Sweat peas. Reading too much. Music on the streets. Cute girls biking. Cute boys biking. Too hot to cook. White wine. Cool showers. Sitting on the porch. Let’s get ice cream.

Summer in early July is a freshly ripe vegetable.

What is this time of year like for you?

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.

“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!

Your destiny is safe with me.
Your childhood is safe with me.
What you decide to bury is safe with me.

-Li-Young Lee
This has also been a spring of thinking, reading, praying, and crying with people I love. I’ve been learning a lot through it all, though I’m not sure just what, yet.

Two things I am sure of:

I am sure we are always safe with God. Our destiny, our childhood, what we chose to bury, all of it.

I want to be a safe place, too.

(Where do you feel safe?)

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)

Most everything is closed today

including the interstate.

I saw a man skiing down the street.

The middle of my road is a highway of people trudging through the cold.

It’s a day I’m glad I walk to work.

I’m never driving to work again.

The busses are all stuck.

It’s scary in some ways.

And exciting.

Want some cocoa?

Welcome to 2008, everyone! How was your New Year? How was your old year? Yesterday, I didn’t fill my pages with words and lists about years to come and years past. I haven’t felt the urge to reflect, yet (though I did make a photoset of last year), and I haven’t wanted to chart and scribble at the future. I have just wanted to sit in these days. To enjoy the smell of roasting apples eminated around the room. To steep in the warmth of friendship. To steep some tea.

I have loved to just lie down on the floor with Hannah and Janelle and play with each other’s hair and tell secrets like we have so many times before. To lend Ben a book. To fall asleep with Adam’s arm around me. To celebrate sushi. To eat breakfast in a warm kitchen with my parents. To paint a notecard. To pray. To buy a new book and read it with Katrina. To build legos with my husband. To hold Eliot. To drink water.

Some days, this life and this Love remain remarkable to me, and even the frost on my window whispers words of care and beauty.  I feel very lucky.

The ice from the weekend storm had just begun to fade from the sidewalks when the flakes began to fall again, today.

In the autumn, I found myself anxious to leave Madison for new cities, long train rides, and the ocean. But as I left work at twilight, and the snowy streets were lit by this town’s sweet lights, I remembered that a good snow makes everyplace magical.

Especially home.

Lack of pictures isn’t due to lack of beauty.  My camera has been out of batteries for a while, and I keep forgetting to charge that little bugger.  This November is looking like a gorgeous one.  It’s full of wind that swirls leaves around you Pocahontas-style, crunchy brown ground, and that tempermental weather you get only on the edges of wintertime.  Yesterday was host to calm overcast, windy sunshine, hail, snow, rain, and stars.

It’s good weather for gingerbread, candles and poems and pipes and laps covered in wool blankets and warm cats.  It’s good weather for fireplaces and favourite books.  It’s good weather for flipping through old journals and photographs and taking cold walks with cold hands hidden in your pockets.