the busy heart

[family, draper temple] I went to Utah last weekend, took hundreds of pictures of the nieces and nephews, went out to eat with friends, took a long walk with my parents and sister and her kids, had a sister/mama sleepover, and just generally soaked up the sweet home feeling.  Arriving, when the plane came into the Salt Lake Valley, I could feel my body relax.  It's so green now, so lovely and familiar.  I could pick out all of the temples and my parents' neighborhood, and I could hardly breathe, I was so glad to be there. [Ari, jumping] I don't have a cohesive story about being there aside from that.  But here's something I want to remember.  My niece, Ari, loves Sam.  When Sam comes to visit at Christmas, she shouts "SAM!!" and runs up and hugs him.  He's not exactly used to this sort of attention, and he likes her for it.  Everyone likes Ari for this: she's spunky, and she's good at making people feel...

I've been fighting off writing this, even though I knew as soon as it happened that I would. It's scary to write it, more personal than I would care to be. But I can't stop thinking I have something so say, and so I must say it. I'm in Utah visiting my parents for 30 seconds or so (Saturday-Monday). While here, I usually hit up Ross, as there ain't no Ross in Boston. So there I was on Saturday, at Ross, waiting in line to purchase several cozy, well-priced sweaters, when two little girls came up behind me, pointed at my butt, and said, "Big butt! Big butt!" Oh, the things I wish I could/would have said. I turned around, said, "That's very rude." Her mother heard me say it, asked the kid what she had said, and a minute later a very embarrassed seven-year-old came up and told me, "I'm sorry." I didn't know what to say there either, as my smart sister (Kira) has pointed out that telling kids "That's okay" whe...

I'm in Utah for a few days, and I'm no good at telling people I'm coming (especially because I thought for awhile I was going to Cali for the week to help with my sister's new baby.), so here I am. Staying at my parents' house used to frustrate me, food-wise. They eat so dang healthy that it seemed like there was nothing to eat. I confess to making more dinner/lunch plans than strictly necessary just because potatoes and broccoli and a big green salad seemed like such a dud dinner. I was on vacation! This time? Their healthy food IS the vacation. I'm in a swoon. It feels like I'm staying in one of these vegan resorts that are cropping up--where you stay there and they make you gourmet vegan meals. Every morning when I wake up there is a gorgeous grain staying warm in their rice cooker. I have it with some barley malt powder, my mom's mix of ground nuts and seeds, a splash of soy milk, and a few juicy clementines on the side. For lunch I have some of thei...

Tonight, to break my fast, I made avocado/apple/turkey enchiladas. I know that sounds weird, but boy oh boy they were yummy. As were the Black Bean Brownies I made this week, off a recipe on 101 Cookbooks . (Note on brownies: You can't taste the black beans. Really, honest, you can't. Also, I substituted 1/2 cup of applesauce for 1/2 the butter, as a cup seemed like a lot. And I mixed agave nectar with honey and maple syrup 'cause agave nectar costs 4 million dollars and didn't want to use it all.) My kitty, Meatsock , is curled up beside me. Occasionally I can hear him make a small kitty squeak. Sam is asleep on the couch, snoring much louder than a kitty squeak, and listening to Bach on Pandora Radio . (Note on Pandora Radio: If you haven't discovered the joy that is Pandora, get yerself over to that website. Such a happy place/thing. Sam and I are obsessed.) Anyway, I'm thinking about Christmas. We had such an exquisite one. Maybe my favorite yet. Here...

I'm going for a record three posts in one day. I couldn't resist posting a few of more pics. One of kitties, sleeping. A few of Sam and me at Arches. One of how it looked in my rearview mirror when a cop pulled me over for speeding through a tiny town in the southwest crumb of Colorado. (whoops.)

Sam was out in Utah with me for a few days, and, while looking for things to do, we came across the national Alpaca show. How could we not attend? There were hundreds of Alpacas, looking like unicorns, hippies, fraggles, snow owls from space, wookies, hairy hillbillies, poodles with problems, q-tips, you get the idea. You'll have to pardon so many pictures. They delight me. P.S. In the second one of Sam and me, we're wearing the Alpaca-fur duds he bought for us: winter hat and pretty shawl object. My kitties are suspicious of them (because they smell like another furry creature, I suspect), but I like.

I was on Ikea.com today, dreaming of how I will furnish my apartment when I move to Boston. I fell in love with the bed you see above. Truth be told, I don't even know if I like the bed that much. I'm probably more into the style of the bed below; that one looks like the bed of a modern woman. But that's the secret: I don't want to be a modern woman. I want to be a princess. I want to be six-years-old. I like the thought of froofy billowing fabric draped from the top of the four-poster. When I was in the midst of going back and forth between the two beds, my dad came to tell me that my cat, Sprout (whom you see below), had jumped on the roof. He said she had barely made it up in the first place: jumped from the porch railing, caught the corner of the rain gutter and had to claw the rest of way with her front paws. When i came out she was looking over the edge, terrified. My dad got a ladder and I climbed it, tugged her off. I thought she would claw my face off, b...