Saturday, April 23, 2011

My Spider Plants and Beltane and Such

Two things.

First, I have two happy little spider plants living on my windowsill, thanks to Em. One's name is Abbot and the other is Louise. I wasn't sure they'd live, but they seem to be doing swell. They were in a baggy for over 24 hours--or at least until I was able to go out and forage for dirt. I hope they make lots of baby spider plants.


Second, I had a beautiful birthday party, complete with friends, tea, Indian food, book stores, and lots of practical gifts. My newest addition to my cupboard space is my new Breakfast at Tiffany's Mug, given by Holley. It's got this gorgeous yellow inside that makes coffee look the yummiest.


I haven't been able to blog as much as I would like; maybe this will change during the summer. And that's sad, because often I feel like my life is full of happy little magical moments that I wish so desperately to capture in writing and pictures.

I'm home this weekend for the Easter holiday. I tend to think of it as an early Beltane. It's colder here, up north four hours from college, but there are glimmers of spring here and there. I went rollerblading today and picked out the little plant sprigs amongst what's left of the snow. Mom and I went for a windy walk to gather aluminum cans, and to visit my sister where she works at a local dairy store. Between homework and curriculum writing, I'm having a nice time and enjoying the whole not-conforming-to-a-schedule thing.

Tomorrow I'm assigned to hide eggs. There's a big green one with five dollars inside that I'll take special care in hiding as difficultly as I can manage!

Friday, April 1, 2011

Early Mornings

I must keep myself in line. I'm slowly loosing touch with the lovely time of day that is dawn. I find myself slipping to sleep far past the chiming of my alarm, only to awake hours later when the sun has already risen. There is no magic to that kind of predictability!

Last year, waking before dawn was a vernacular practice. I'd meet with Emma almost every morning to run or walk about the town until the sun came up. Then we'd sit and drink coffee for a few hours and discuss writing projects and other wonderful things. And after that, I'd gleefully caper back to the apartment to find my lovely partner, still deep in the cavernous land of Nod, and slowly snuggle beside them until tired fingers lifted to brush at waking eyes.


I miss that.

I'm set on reviving these pre-dawn rituals. I have an arsenal of coffee and a stack of books to brave the cloudy, shrouded hours. Hopefully I can succeed. I have a goal to sneak outside and take pictures of the dark, chilly, slumbering world, as vast and uncharted as wilderness.