Monday, September 29, 2008

goodbye, hello

Friday night, we hosted our first party at the new place—a goodbye party for our friend Jess. She worked with Col at Burton—has this amazing talent for textiles. But then Nike swooped her up. So she's off to Portland, Oregon, like somebody else I know and we bade her farewell with good music, happy people, friendly neighbors, a special guest and cheese curls. I guess it's lucky our chairs haven't come yet for the lounge area, cause it made a sweet dance floor for the festivities. Here's Jess:

The next day, Col and I headed up to my parents' house in Derby to see Aunt Lucy & Uncle John and attend my 10-year high school reunion (yes, just 10 years). Right outside of Newport, we passed Little John's gas station and I saw my friends Mandy and Sarah standing in the parking lot by the side of the road. I pulled in. There was a tow truck with Sarah and Joe's car on top. The car was all smashed up in the front. They had just been in an accident!

Luckily, no one was hurt—except for Rosita the car, R.I.P.—and pretty soon, we were back in the saddle and on our way to reunion. It took place at Paul's Sugar House in Derby. Hidden way back in the woods not too far from the Canadian border. We drove right past it the first time. We finally found it, but then we were nervous to go inside. We shouldn't have been. It was so much fun! So great to say hello to old friends. So interesting to see how much people have changed—or stayed the same. It's hard not to wonder, have I changed or stayed the same? Colin had a good time, too, I think.

The thing ended around 10:30, but I don't think people weren't ready to say goodbye. And so we filtered out to the parking lot and did some more chatting and catching up out there. We were so preoccupied with our conversation, that eventually we looked around us only to realize that we were the only ones left: Mandy & Ryan, Sarah and Joe, and Me and Col. Everyone else was gone! We stayed for another 20 minutes or so. Then Paul (you know, from Paul's Sugarhouse) came out and started talking to us. What a sweet old man. He had such a thick French-Canadian accent and his skin was all weathered. He told us about his business—how the 9000 maples he taps are so unpredictable, that he supplements his income with the wedding/celebration business. (Lots of people have their receptions there apparently.) He's been doing it for thirty years.

Any-who. I'm rambling now, cause I'm too tired to edit my thoughts. Here's a picture of Sarah, Mandy and Me, 10 years later, in the parking lot of Paul's Sugarhouse:

You know what? I think I can answer my own question: I don't think any of us have changed much at all (a part from the weddings and careers and new homes and new cities). And that's a good thing, I think. It's a constant we can count on...

Monday, September 22, 2008

to the royal mount

Montreal was a much-needed weekend getaway. We drove up Saturday after our morning coffee. It was a beautiful drive up with an endless clear blue sky. As we crossed the border from Vermont into Canada, the lush green forests diminished. Then it was golden cornfields stretching for miles, punctuated every now and then by clusters of old silos. Silos gave way to electrical towers the closer we got to the city. Corn fields gave way to concrete structures. We passed the Coca Cola man and knew we were close.

We headed towards centre-ville, passed the grain mills by the river.

Early afternoon sun cast jeweled reflections off some office buildings. They shimmered quietly as we passed.

After we checked into the hotel, we headed down to the old port area. It's touristy there, but we didn't care. We decided to grab some frites and wine at a little cafe.

It reminded us of Paris a little bit, and was almost romantic, despite the tacky parade of brides and white Hummer limos making their way through the small cobblestone streets of Old Montreal. We saw at least 10 different bridal parties having photoshoots among the picturesque buildings. I wish we had've taken some pictures of them ourselves.

I liked the green glass on this building.

A pagoda rooftop in China Town.

Finally, it was evening and so we headed back down to the piers for the Sigur Rós show. It was on the Quai Jacques Cartier with the city lights offering a gorgeous back-drop. We ran into Chip and Susan as we got to the entrance. Here, we were waiting in line to get into the show.

We were there early, so we walked around the Quai, got drinks and took pictures of the scenery...

Then Sigur Rós came on stage. They started playing, and it was pure magic. We were entranced. They city scape was bright and lively, with a large search light scanning the sky every minute or so. Yet, we were far enough removed that the setting was strangely quiet. Just like the music—lively, bright, complex, while at the same time serene, enchanting, dark. It was the perfect set really. I wonder if they planned it that way. Here's a picture of the stage with the city of Montreal in the background.

If you ever get the chance to see Sigur Rós live in concert, you must go. If you ever get the chance to see Sigur Rós live in concert, "en plein air" as the French say (outside) with the city of Montreal as a back-drop, you must, must go. As the band played, their ethereal sound bounced off the stage, bounced off the the waters of the St. Lawrence River behind us, off the buildings perched on the royal mount, and landed, hovering like a warm globe above our ears. It washed over us. And we were entranced. And then, there were dolls...

And then, there was fairy dust...

And rainbows... and passion... and fashion... And the show ended, just like that. But our senses remained piqued. We just had to walk it off.

We walked back up the hill and passed this fountain on the way. Underground lights infused the water with a fiery glow. We posed.

And that's that. I wish you could've been there.

They do too...

Thursday, September 18, 2008

reluctant dreamer

These days, I don't usually dream. When my grandmother passed away, a friend of mine told me that I'd probably start dreaming about her. No, it hasn't happened yet. I just don't dream. I sleep solidly through and through and wake up feeling like I've only just gone to bed. No creepy parallel worlds. No awkward, dreamed-up scenarios with co-workers. No strange déjà vus . Why is that?

And why is it that suddenly this week, I'm dreaming every night? My sleep is restless. Colored by dizzying images, confused by light and night and day and sound. And by morning, I'm so exhausted by an ineffectual rest, I sleep through the alarm. Sleep through an entire minute of siren-sounding. Wake up exhausted from a nightmare-hangover. What is causing my over-active mind to stay up and party way too late when everyone else has turned in? Is it the moon? The weather? One night, at least, I know it was the wind.

I don't like dreams.

Monday, September 15, 2008

A gusting wind, and, music to lose yourself in

I was roused in the middle of the night last night by a fierce gusting wind forcing its way through the bedroom windows, pushing the long window panels virtually sideways. They were flapping loudly like the sails on a boat in an ocean storm and, as they parted and whipped from side to side, the street lamp outside cast eerie shadows onto the wooden floor. I got out of bed and closed the windows. But it only caused the old glass panes to rattle even more loudly. I finally fell back asleep, but kept waking to the loud, whipping wind that lasted till morning. It colored my dreams and when I finally awoke for good, it was an hour too late and I was out of sorts.

There’s another wind whipping around our place these days. It’s the wind of transition. People all around us are moving. They are changing. Ending life. Starting life. Starting new life together... The winter is coming. Meanwhile, here we stand, Col and I, feet firmly planted on solid ground. We’re rooted ever-deeper in this place. We bought a home here together. And we’re staying put. For a while anyhow.

It’s not easy to stand firmly in place when the winds of change are whipping their persuasive tendrils around your every limb. Pulling you this way and that to bigger and better things. Calling you to keep up with the rest of the crowd. Still, I’m determined to use this moment as motivation to make this place we’re attached to as vibrant and exciting as ever—in hopes that we don’t need to change ourselves to be happy, but just to change what we’re doing. It will require some effort, but not much I feel. Change can happen at home too.

So what’s first on the list? Colin and I are going to Montreal on Saturday (it’s right around the corner really). We’re going on an overnight trip to enjoy the city and see Sigur Ros in concert at the Quai Jacques Cartier. Colin used to play their music for me when we were first dating and even though we still listen to them all the time, I equate their music with that time in my life when I was falling in love. Everything was sensual, hopeful and exciting. Everything tasted good. Everything sounded good. Everything was good.

I am really excited for the show. I’ve never seen them live, but Colin has and he predicts this outdoor show will be amazing. Hope we have good weather. Maybe we’ll fit in some shopping in beforehand at the Atwater Market...

Sunday, September 14, 2008

blue danube

That's the color Col and I finally agreed on for the den. But not before we had to go through the colorist's version of couple counseling to find a common ground. But we did it. And when we saw the beautiful teal-navy-blue pop from the colorist's fan deck, our eyes met and we just knew. And it gets better. Not only did we find a color we both love, but we also found a paint we both love too. I know that sounds geeky, but when was the last time you painted a wall dark blue and only needed one coat (and no primer!)? That's right, one coat of paint and no primer. It's the new Aura paint from Benjamin Moore and it's worth every penny.

I love being a homeowner.

Saturday, September 13, 2008


Our new place has a lot of history. Here are some treasures we found when we were cleaning out from behind the pocket doors in the bedroom:

A plastic red toy car, a brochure for Operation Golden Eagle, a hotel rate card and an old, chewed-up box of mouse poison. (Didn't find the mouse though. Yet.)

Friday, September 12, 2008

mmm, goodnight

It's Friday night at 11:30 and I'm not at all sad to say: I think I'm going to bed. Just thought I'd mention that yes, the quiche was amazing and that, for the first time in a couple years, Colin cooked me dinner tonight. He made this yummy cheesy onion soup and it was amazing. We had it with some red wine. And then we ate macaroons for dessert. Wouldn't you be going to bed too at this point? I mean, what else is there to say or do? The night is just perfect as it is...

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

lost in space?

I normally would consider myself a very organized person. I make lists. I cross things off. I pay my bills on time. However, today it came to my attention that messages in my P.Post e-mail account, which I thought were being forwarded to a more active, more frequently checked e-mail account, have been sitting dormant in my inbox for the past year. Yes, that's right. 12 months. Lost in cyber space. That's the sort of oversight I'm inclined to obsess over—and feel guilty about. But instead of obsessing, I decided to write back.

There was an e-mail from Cory in Brooklyn wondering if Burlington is cool. She was considering moving here to get away from the city... I wrote back, "Yes, it's so cool here!" I think it's cool, my friends think it's cool. (Yes, even cool for the city gals.) Even Nylon magazine thinks it's cool—they did a profile on Burlington back in November and were surprised it's so much more than just cows up here. (But we do have a lot of cows, and they make the best freakin' cheese in the world—we're so lucky.)

I also had an e-mail from Kate at She read my post about how depressing cat litter boxes are and wanted to let me know that there are some great products out there, including Burlington's own Hepper Home, which features designer furniture for cats and dogs. Thanks Kate. What a life saver!

I also heard from Paula at Seven Days, who invited me to be a panelist in a discussion about creative technology careers for the upcoming Vermont 3.0 event in October. (She was smart enough to give me a phone call when I never e-mailed her back.) So cool! Well, I am ready and willing to talk about my job as Web Producer at EatingWell. I love it so much! More info on that when I know more.

After I answered some e-mails tonight, I opened the fridge and noticed that a lot of the beautiful produce I bought at the farmer's market is starting to go by. So I decided to make a delicious quiche with baby summer squash, arugula, shitakes, onion and garlic. I ran out of milk, so I had to use buttermilk and a little sour cream for the custard. I've never done that before! But it's in the oven now and I'm excited to see how it turns out. I'll letcha know!


Sunday, September 07, 2008

yesterday, today

Yesterday, shopping for undergarments with a pregnant woman. Buying fresh peaches at the market. Drinking tea in the afternoon. Taking a nap on the new sofa. Wine and food with favorite friends.

Today, excited to find my boy's coming home a day earlier than expected. Listening to Charles Aznavour. Being somewhat productive at home. Feeling chilly, autumnal and utterly romantic.

Friday, September 05, 2008

you, me and the couch

It's been one of those weeks. Wake up go to work. Work. Get home late. Eat dinner on the couch. Watch T.V. (It's not all bad: Watching Heidi and Sarah back to back on Wednesday night was an interesting, if not pointless, study in American culture). Go to bed. Wake up. Go back to work. Is that what they call the grind? That's not what I want to be doing with the rest of my life, that's for sure.

Emma mentioned I haven't written on Eat Peas since June. Quelle tragédie! Is it awful to say this? I kind of forgot about it. Should I just bag the whole thing or carry on? I certainly have much to write these days on nourishment and I can't wait to tell you about the ice cream recipe I concocted last night: candied figs and Vermont plums, cassis, a little Syrah and toasted pine nuts with a Jersey cream custard. Can you handle it? I certainly can't. And I've been stuffing my face with it ever since it came out of the spinner.

Okay, I'm determined to stay off the couch all weekend. So for now, I'm off to hop on some art.


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