A man came into the shop, yesterday.  I had met him once before.  I don’t remember what he ordered last time, but I remember that when I asked him where he was from, his face lit up.  He told me the ways he loves Morocco.  I can be shy, sometimes, to ask people about their origins.  But, I think very few things make people more glad than talking about their homes.

This time, he ordered coffee and sparkling water.  He was surprised I remembered him.  He had been very busy working on his thesis.  He is a graduate student of literature.

“What do you study?” he asked.

“I don’t study,” I said.

“Good!” he said, with marked enthusiasm.  I thought perhaps he misunderstood, and I laughed.

“You think it is good?”

“Yes!  I think it is very good!  Let’s say you love something.  Let’s say you paint or write.  Let’s say you knit.  And then you go and study it.  I think something can be lost there.  Something important.  The essence.”  His hand gestures were thick like his accent and just as welcoming.  “Maybe I am wrong, I don’t know.  But this is what I begin to believe.”  He was a little sad about that.

Was he right?  Do you think you can lose something of what you love when you make it a subject in a book?  I think he is wrong.  I think there is something beautiful in studying, learning, sharing ideas.  And at the same time, I think he is right.

We smiled at each other, and I felt I had met a friend, again.

There is a man that comes into the coffee shop in the afternoons. He has grey hair, a soft voice, a small rosy smile, and in the winter, a big leather hat. He asked me how I was doing, and I confided with a laugh that I was very grumpy that day. I asked him how he was.

“Not the best, but, I’m good at pretending.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Well, you’ve got to pretend to be who people want you to be to make it in this world…

-short silence-

Don’t you think so?”

“I don’t think I’m old enough to be that jaded.”

What do you think?

My silly husband upgraded my website by accident.  If you see anything that seems “odd”, please let me know!

Hi, everyone. i haven’t gotten around to blogging much these last couple days. Nor taking pictures. But we are in our new place, and I’m thrilled to say that we are sharing it three days of the week with one of my best friends. Living with Janelle and Adam: it’s like a dream come true. Our things are slowly finding their way out of boxes onto the shelves. Plants are being put in the windows. Futons are being assembled. Lamps are being plugged in.

I don’t know why I never liked August. It’s such a bountiful time of year. I feel nourished by the good books around me and the presence of friends. I feel nourished by the late-summer vegetables, early autumn apples, and the birds outside my window nibbling at a tree’s hard fruits.

Coffee-shop customers have been asking if I’m taking classes this fall. I usually tell them that I’m done with school, for now. I know they probably assume that I graduated, but I don’t really feel deceptive. I really feel like I finished school. I didn’t go for a degree or security or a job. I went to throw myself in the academic world, to bury myself in books and soak up knowledge like there was no tomorrow. And I did that. And I loved that. But now, I want to do something else. I want to see live from the smaller corners, from the chalk-covered overgrown sidewalks of my neighborhood, rather than the fine steps of the university.
In this sun-soaked month, I am learning to recognize a lot of things in myself. Since I was little, there were only two things that I have ever really wanted to do: write and travel. I think it’s time to enjoy that about myself, rather than suppressing and then binging on it. I can’t share what I’ve been given very well without welcoming it.

So, happy August, dear readers. Feel free to share things you’ve been recognizing in yourself or even just whether or not you like August. You know I love to hear from you.

It wasn’t the best apartment, but it was home, our first home together.

Most of the time it was messy and it got so hot in the summer and “three chord” was always playing his three chords on his guitar. He got much better by the end of the year. So did we.

Now, a new year, a new apartment, a new book to write.

Photos from our new place tomorrow when we move in and begin making another new place home.

Keely asked what other jobs I could see myself doing. I’m glad she asked, because I think I’ve learned a lot about what sort of work I enjoy this year. As a kid, a teenager, a young adult, I liked to daydream about doing different jobs. I wanted to be a marine biologist, a doctor in Africa, a great professor. But I’m beginning to see that I don’t like grand jobs fixed in grand systems. I like work that is small and solitary, but still creates and connects with people. I like using my hands and my words. I like jobs that feel like giving little gifts.

So other than my work writing or pouring good cups of coffee, here are some other jobs I could see myself doing:

-Woodwork. I could see myself enjoying carving small things like pipes or treasure boxes.

- I could own a little shop that sells little somethings people can sit with inside (perhaps edible or drinkable).

- I could see myself being a shepherdess. Or a goose girl.

-I could see myself being a potter.

What are some jobs you could see yourself doing?

I spent most of this morning going through clothes and doing laundry, deciding what to take with us on our move and what to leave behind.  I like that part of moving, the simplifying, the cleaning, the fresh start.  I found some old gems of scarves I had forgotten about, and encountered a lot of stained, worn clothes I had tried to forget.  Most of them had good long lives, but I still have trouble just tossing them.  So they stay in my closet.  I have always done this.

But this year, I decided to use my brain a bit.   I took my favourite wool tights that lost every bit of their elasticity years ago, cut the legs off at the knee, snipped off the toe, made a thumb hole, and now I have pretty great arm warmers (picture to come!) that I can’t wait to break out when the cooler weather arrives.  I think I’ll make lavender sachets from the rest of it.

Next up, a couple t-shirts (grocery bags?) and a worn-through linen skirt (a pillow?).  I’ll let you know what happens.  In the meantime, here’s a good list of ways to use old tights.

What are creative (or even boring) ways you like to reuse things?  Please share!

Contents of closets are spilled out on the floor with box after empty box.  It’s chaos this time of year in apartments around the city, but Adam wrote my name on the wall in white paint.  That makes it heaps better.  So do the tomatoes from the porch.  And just the anticipation of being in a new place soon, sleeping in a different room, cooking on a different stove, taking showers in a different bathroom, and calling it all home.