back to the berry farm

Bluebug season is in full swing, so we went back to the berry farm bright and early this morning before the clouds burned off to pick a few pounds. We went with Emi, Kevin and Sapphie. Our friend Mindy is staying with them for the weekend and she came too. Then we met up with Michelle and G-boy when when we got there. It was a fun little party!

The blueberries were so prolific that all you had to do was cup your hand under a bunch, jiggle your fingers a bit and catch the harvest that tumbled down. Colin developed his own technique for this and gave me a lesson. We picked 8 pounds in less than an hour.

When the parents were cashing out, I hung out with kiddos by the Imagine boat. Then we all booked it back to Burlington to hit up the Farmer's Market and get to the Plum Lady before she sold out. It was actually the Plum Man this time. And his son whose job it is to cut off bits of plum for people to sample. I always take a bite even though I know I'm going to get some. Some of them are still a little tart, but soo0 good...

at the drive-in

I don't know how long Sunset Drive-in in Colchester, Vermont has been around, but I'm willing to guess that it looks a lot like it did back when it first opened—the only difference being the movies they play. Everything—from the man at the ticket booth bearing a strong resemblance to Richard Keil to the fake wood-paneling at the concession stand and 70s funk background music during intermission—seems to be stuck in a time warp. And who would want it to be any different? That's just part of the charm.

Colin and I went to the drive-in for our date night on Thursday. The place has four big screens and plays 2 different movies on each screen (for $8 a person, that's a steal!). So we had a lot of options, but in the end opted for Screen 1, which was playing Pixar's Up at dusk, followed by Star Trek late-nite. We got there a little early, so we hung out by the swings till sunset and then hit the concession stand before hopping back in the car and tuning in to 94.1 on the radio.

Up started around 9 p.m. I had no idea what to expect since I hadn't seen any trailers for it. 10 minutes into it, Colin and I were both crying, but then just a few minutes later we were laughing and then crying again. We both loved it. The illustrations were fabulous—the use of colors and scale were so inspiring.

After Up, I was a little nervous that our car battery was going to die, so we turned the car on for a minute to recharge.

All of a sudden a commercial for the concession stand came on. This is where that 70s funk music came from that I mentioned before. They wanted us to go buy hot dogs and popcorn and then in the next instance there were pictures of roses blooming and then candy and then shots of clouds in the sky moving very fast (the 70s funk music was playing the whole time in the background). At that point we both looked at each other and laughed out loud. What the heck? That was so weird.

Well, we did go back to the concession stand, so I guess it worked. And since it was such a nice night out, we decided to get Chesters ice cream cookie sandwiches. Mmmmm!

At this point, it was really late out and we both had to work in the morning, but Colin was determined to stay for Star Trek. I'm so glad we did, even though we didn't get home until 1:30 a.m. We both loved the movie. I forgot that I used to watch the old T.V. episodes on the Sci Fi network. I forgot how much I loved that old Sci Fi stuff. Before seeing the movie, I had this idea in my head that it was going to be some over-produced blockbuster garbage. And while it did border on that genre, there were a lot of nostalgic throw-backs and even some story-lines that made you have to think a little bit. I would highly recommend both of the movies!

And I would highly recommend the Sunset Drive-in. It's funny, that the next day on public radio, there was an opinion piece about drive-ins in Vermont. There used to be more than 20 in the state and now there are only 4. We're so lucky to have one in our backyard. So we have to support it! Bring your friends, bring your kids. Go to the drive-in this summer!

i voted

Last night I had some terrible dreams. I found myself alone in a haunted temple with stony vaulted ceilings. The stones shifted shapes and lashed out at me—they were demons. Suddenly I was on the Metro in Paris and I couldn't understand what people were saying. (But how can that be? I speak French, I remember thinking.)

I didn't know where I was or how to get where I wanted to go. I got on the wrong train, one of those long distance trains that doesn't stop till the end. And it was going to a dangerous place. I was trapped. And the other passengers lashed out in front of me like the demons in the temple. They tried to rip my clothes; steal my passport.

Suddenly, I was back in the temple. But this time it was filled with people. I was crying uncontrollably. I realized it was a funeral. My friend's brother had died.

I woke up in a sweat, my legs and arms crossed so tightly. There was a sound coming from the street, the sound of cars driving slowly. I looked out the window. There were tons of cars lined up outside. They were all heading towards the school. And then I remembered: it's election day!

Election day. Just the thought gave me a chill. One way or another, all of this unrest will finally be settled.

I got ready as quickly as I could, then I walked out the front door and turned towards the Middle School. I'm lucky, it's just three houses away. As I walked closer to the entrance, there were tons of campaign posters and people holding signs. I didn't look at them. My mind's been made up for months. But I still got a chill entering the building.

We're making history today.

I walked up to the sign for district 3-3 and told the man my name. He gave me two ballot sheets. One for the official State of Vermont ballot and one for the city of Burlington. One of them was bright pink.

I filled out the ballot with a black marker.

Then I walked up to the machine that looks like a copier and put my ballots in one at a time. The volunteer next to the machine gave me an "I voted" sticker. I stuck it on my blue and white striped top.

Just a matter of minutes, and all before 7:45, but I feel so accomplished already. And at 1:30 today another huge feat comes to fruition: my sister Emi is defending her PhD thesis. I'll be there for the presentation with Kevin.

(I'm still trying to figure out the significance of the dreams.)

winter farmers' market

Today was the last Farmers' Market. Kinda sad. I went down there with Emi and Kev. There weren't as many vendors as usual and the seasonal produce offerings were not as varied as they are at the height of the season in August and September. Still, I stocked up on root vegetables, onions, potatoes and squash. I can't wait to try some of the root vegetable recipes that my friend Carolyn developed at EatingWell for the November issue, like this root vegetable gratin. It was so good when we tried it in the test kitchen. The first time I ever tried rutabaga! It's so good. Well, I bought a bag of rutabaga and I tried to find parsnips, but the guy at the Lewis Creek stand said they only just started harvesting them and they wouldn't have them till the winter market.

Winter market! That's right, how could I forget? The Burlington Farmers' Market is going through the winter this year. Yippee! Now I can get my parnsip soup on.

The market will be held in Memorial Auditorium, 10am-2pm on the third Saturday of each month from December through April:

November 22 (just in time for Thanksgiving!)
December 20 (get your last-minute Christmas prezzies!)
January 17
February 21
March 21
April 18

Here's more info on what kind of food and art will be available.

shallots and garlic:


rutabaga:

what I do at work

Ever wonder what I do all day at work? Sometimes I wish I could get a glimpse into the day and life of some of my friends. Seriously, the only times we hang out are around food or a drink or Project Runway—who wants to talk about work outside of work? Well, I do, for one. Now's your chance to hear all about me (and other web writers) and what we do behind the curtain on a daily basis. You know you want to know...

This Saturday, I'm going to be a panelist for the Vermont 3.0 Creative/Tech Career Jam at Champlain College in Burlington. I'll be speaking on the "So, You Wanna Write for the Web" panel discussion, with Washington Monthly blogger Steve Benen and St. Mike's Journalism Professor Marybeth Redmond. Seven Days' Cathy Resmer will be the moderator.

We'll be there to talk about what we do, answer questions and share tips with people who are interested in pursuing our line of work.

And it's not just web writers either. There will be a whole slew of different companys and creative/tech careers represented. Here's a full list of panels and times. Ours is the first one of the day at 10 a.m. Cool!

busted, and trying to forget it

My car got smashed last night. They smashed the window and took nothing. Not even the $3 in change that was in the console. The invader got scared and ran away—Hannah saw him when she was coming into the house. He was running fast down King Street. She just thought he was some crazy kid. It was around dinner time. I was in the house writing on my blog, suspecting nothing.

So it wasn't until this morning, when I went to leave for work that I found my poor little car smashed, wide open and glass-strewn in the pouring rain. I called the police. They came, but there wasn't much they could do, especially in the rain. So Col and I cleaned up the glass and I drove to the service shop with cold, wet wind beating on my face. (It was the driver's window that they smashed.)

Now, $260 later (insurance didn't cover it), I have nothing to show for it. And neither does he. Was it really worth it? Well, I say I have nothing to show for it, but that's not true. My optimism has been scarred for the time being. I'm afraid to go out to my parking lot by myself now. I'll have to ask Col to walk with me to the garbage bin. Wonder what I'll do when he's away?

my favorite fall weekend

When you spend weeks looking forward to something, when you put all of your extra energy in total anticipation of the thing—be it holiday, party, wedding or whatever—if you do it right, you can sometimes let the momentum of that much-anticipated event carry you through another few days, even after all the people are gone and the candles are out.

You can live on the leftovers of smoked salmon and capers; finish half-empty bottles of fine wine; nibble on sweets from the fridge. It's as though the party lives on in spirit, glowing with fresh memories, reluctant to burn out. It isn't until you pour that last glass of wine and the last sticky drop drips into your cup, when your kitchen returns to normalcy and the linens are all washed, that you realize the party really is over. It could be a very sad thing indeed if you let your guard down.

Without exaggeration I can say that this past weekend was one of those moments; it was one of the most-anticipated and most amazing weekends I've had in a long time. As I sip on the very last glass from the very last bottle of wine, I would like to spend the next few moments remembering and sharing, instead of feeling blue that it's all over.

As I mentioned before, my sister Hannah flew in on Thursday night last week. She got in pretty late, but we had some catching up to do and a party to plan—a baby shower for our sister Emma—so we didn't waste much time sleeping. Isaac came over to hang out and we made to-do lists.

Finally, we did sleep and when we woke up, we got right to work (I took the day off work). We had to get all our shopping in before we met my parents for lunch at Leunig's. Friday was a blur. We mixed, baked, cooked, ate... went to Emi & Kev's for dinner. Auntie Lucy and Uncle John were there. And then it was Saturday—the day of the party.

The shower really was a great success. My mom made some beautiful arrangements for the apartment. The weather was beautiful. The food was good. All the guests were in great spirits. There were 17 in all, I think. And the guest of honor—our sister Emma—was thoroughly spoiled with gifts and attention. Some people lingered late into the afternoon. Then they were gone and Hannah, Mummy and I had to pat ourselves on the back for a job well done. I was especially proud of the carrot cake and the make-your-own tea station (that was the party favor). Emi got lots of nice prezzies. I gave her a set of Peter Rabbit books. My dad made a bookshelf to put them in. My mom made woolly socks, pants and sweater for the baby. Hannah made a stuffed dog out of one of Papa Roger's old shirts.






We practically fell into bed for a long nap.

Later in the evening, we had a family dinner at the Bearded Frog in Shelburne. The food was amazing. I think the highlight was when Kevin ordered the County Fair for dessert—caramel apples, fried dough and maple cotton candy all served up on a plate.


Hannah and I kept on going: we met up with some friends down at 1/2 bar. It was so fun! We danced a lot. Steve was there and he gave me a copy of his new album as a thank you for dealing with annoying Isaac for the cover shoot. It's really, really good.

Sunday was just as fabulous as the two prior days. Those of us ambitious folks got up very early and went to church. Not me or Hannah though—we needed sleep! Then we all met for brunch at Shelburne farms and then apple picking at Shelburne orchards. The weekend came to a close with a lovely dinner with family and a few friends at our place once again. (This time Hannah cooked—she made yummy pizzas out of all the leftover food! Mummy made an apple crumble.)


I think it's unusual for so many great people to be all in the same place at once, all in the same frame of mind, all wanting to love and be loved, to enjoy life and give joy to others. Yes, we had a lot of good food and good parties, but in the end—and I know I'm going to sound cliche for saying this—it's the people who made it absolutely fabulous.


Here are a bunch more photos from the weekend.

Oh, and I promised I would post links to recipes from the weekend. Here are some of the best:

Sweet Potato Ravioli
Tomato-Basil Skewers
EatingWell's Carrot Cake
Vegetable Satay

xoxo

Great pumpkin Charlie Brown!

We snapped this photo at the gas station today:

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 ModernCat.net. 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!

xoxo

happy and healthy in burlington

Looks like Burlington, Vermont once again made the cut for Self magazine's top 5 healthiest U.S. cities for women. Why? Low violent crime rate, good air quality, and fewer reported STDs than the national average. Hmm... that's funny. I think I'll go for a run.

Yay Burlington!

(P.S. You can see how other cities measured up here.)

a present a day

It's Colin's birthday week. He turns 32 on Friday. We've got lots of activities planned for the weekend: NYC, friend time, surfing on Long Island, karaoke in the city...

This year, I had a really hard time figuring out what to get him. So I got him a bunch of little things and decided to give him one a day till Friday. Here's the first:


2 red-eye robot mugs made by a Burlington artist, Dan Siegel. (Found him at the Burlington Farmers' Market.)

Oh, and what did Colin buy for himself? Two tickets for the both of us to see Sigur Ros in Montreal in September. YES!!!

xoxo

this day

Another inspiring message from my Mum today, sent to my two sisters and me:

Good Morning to my darling girls! What a beautiful day we've been given... blue skies, not completely cloudless, but we can handle a few clouds. So, what are you going to do with today? I was thinking, wouldn't it be great if we girls decided, just for today, to make a commitment to make this day the very best day of our lives. What if, instead of finding fault, (so easy to do!), just for today, we lent a helping hand? What if, just for today, we'd go out and look for beauty, and forgive the ugly? What if, just for today, we decided not to take to heart the unkind word, and try to understand the reason for it, instead, and give an encouraging one back? What if, again, just for the day, we gave, instead of took? What if our thoughts were filled with praise, love, and kindness, even if faced with criticism and hatred? What if, in the midst of anger, we felt in our hearts a peace that beggars description? What if...? I love you guys, and want to thank all of you for bringing such joy into my life. Have a great day!
Lots of love, Mummy xxx

transparency

In order to minimize my impact here on Earth, I’ve thought about what it would mean to lead a transparent life. What it would mean to untangle the complexity of this world, and truly understand and find meaning in the basic elements that contribute to my existence here.

It would mean taking nothing for granted. It would mean having a hand in the decisions I make. A literal hand. It would mean mixing my dough rather than pulling it from the package. It would mean raising the chicken if I’m to have eggs. Growing the wheat to make the flour. It would mean walking to work. 12 miles down Route 7. And 12 miles back. On shoes that I made from tree bark or, if I have the stomach, from the leather of a felled doe. That I felled myself. It would mean fetching water from the lake (a 15-minute walk there and 15 minutes back). And then to boil it to purify it. On fire that I built by rubbing some dry wood with a piece of stone… And that’s just to start.

To iron out the complexities of life would mean intangible things as well: being honest and true, pursuing knowledge while being sensitive to the needs of others, yearning for community, taking time to understand.

To reach transparency is a huge task. We can only get there one step at a time. I might not have room or time to raise my own chickens, but I can choose to buy eggs from my local farmer and I can make an effort to visit his farm and understand his practice. It is there in our search for understanding that we build community and sensitivity. We nourish one another. And we learn that our efforts have the power to build exponentially upon each other.





Blog Action Day

new mural outside the roxy

One more reason I love the Roxy, besides its great movie selection, is the new trend in outdoor murals (a.k.a graffitti) on its facade. Okay, the Simpsons display was kind of cheeseball and I'm not a big fan of aerosol paint. But this new mural we happened upon on Sunday (in process) is pretty cool. It adds interest to a normally bland concrete wall. It engages passersby. And it sends a message of respectful irreverence to the community. Plus it's a neat way to promote the theatre's business while supporting local artists. Cool.


In other news... Suki got spayed today. It was traumatic to say the least. I cried when we put her in the carrier and I almost started crying again when I dropped her off at the vet. But now that she's home and safe, and she's licked off enough of the vet smell so that Au Lait is willing to be in the same room with her, it's kind of funny. With the pain meds she's on—or perhaps because of a sore abdomen—she's taken to falling asleep upright. And crooked-like at that.

eat peas weekly

Call me crazy, but I'm starting a new writing project, based on a suggestion by one Hannah Wall. It's called Eat Peas Weekly—essays on nourishment every Monday, and in it I hope to publish new writing by a different person each week. If you have something to contribute, I would love to post it, so send your writing my way! (or just comment on the blog).


Love,

south end art hop 2007

We went to the Art Hop last night. Saw some cool bicycle art at JDK. The old green one looked just like one I used to have. Then in the basement there was lots of colorful artwork that reminded me of Hannah's cat Mister and our cat Au Lait. Got sad, called Hannah. Went to the Box to see Isaac, Steve, and Rucchi. They had rented a paint ball gun so that people could shoot screen prints (art in action). Isaac had a bunch of blown-up text messages on display. Some of them were from my friends so I took pictures of them. None of them were from me though, cause I don't have a cell phone. Walked around some more. This green portrait was one of my favorites, but I neglected to see who the artist is. See more pictures.


Ended up back at the Box late-nite. We even made some art ourselves, starring the illustrious Vanessa in one film, and Colin and Taylor in the other.

posture perfect

I'm practicing my posture. That means that every time I walk from here to there, I try to pretend that I'm Pollyana playing the glad game. I walk as though a hundred winds float at my nape. Well, I try to. That's when I'm upright. Even I concede: sitting straight is a different challenge altogether.

Good posture is a very difficult thing. It takes lots of energy and a good attitude. But isn't it oh-so-important?

Imagine if the whole world of people walked with an ever-upward altitude and an effortless smile like Fred Astaire with his jovial gait. Imagine how we'd look at each other then.

the tower of babel

I've been thinking a lot about community these days. And in that context, differences as they translate into beauty or into conflict. Long ago, or so it says in the bible, humankind spoke one language. They were a unified people who, through the strength of many, worked together to build a tower into the heavens. God, seeing what his people had built, set about to prevent it by confounding the people's language and scattering them all over the world.

Nowadays, ethnic and religious cultures stand out in stark contrast against one another. When you meet someone who speaks another language the human differences are quite tangible. How can you connect with someone when you can't understand what they're saying? How can you build a community with someone, when community relies so much on communication?

The fact is, good communication and positive community building are a challenge even for two people who speak the same language--if those two people choose to focus only on the differences.

Here's where I can really learn something from my cat. Au Lait and I speak different languages. But we've both gotten to the point, I think, where we're beginning to understand each other, even if we can't speak the words. She'll meow a certain way. Then meow again. Before I would say, "Au Lait, I don't know what you want." I would say that till I was blue in the face. Truth is though, I might not know what she's saying, but I do know what she needs or wants.

Likewise, sometimes she'll choose to push her luck, and pretend she doesn't know that what she's doing hurts my feelings. But when I look into her eyes, I see a certain hesitation there. I'll just say her name and she'll pull back. It's a little game we have of sorts: you give a little, I'll give a little. In the end, the we's have it, so long as everyone involved puts in a little effort (e.g. I give some food and playtime, she sits on my feet in bed).

That's right. I'm saying communication has absolutely nothing to do with language. It's about dialog and understanding. It's about sharing a moment despite our differences. And that's where the beauty lies.

Bill Clinton at Middlebury

I finally got the chance to listen to the commencement speech Bill Clinton gave at Middlebury College (my alma mater) a couple of weeks ago.

I'm impressed. The subject: building community. Clinton said that every successful community has three things: a broadly shared opportunity to participate, a sense of responsibility for the success of the enterprise, and a genuine sense of belonging. Regardless of our differences. (I immediate thought of my baker friend.) Why is community so important? In a nutshell, Clinton says community is the elemental building block that will enable us to solve all the world's issues. I think he's right. And I appreciate his honesty and prudence for serving up a challenge that's so easily within grasp for all of us.

[Watch the video]

my midd reunion

I got the ultimate validation this weekend at my Middlebury College reunion: as I walked by a group of old classmates who I only vaguely remember in passing, I heard one them say to the others, "Who is that?" with a hint of surprise in his voice.

"That's Penelope Wall."

That's Penelope Wall. As though I was a movie star. Or the ugly-duckling turned beauty queen. It did feel good, but the comment also made me pause and think: Am I really that much different than I was five years ago? Even worse: was I really that unnoticeable back then? If so, then what has changed?

Maybe I walk a little straighter. Maybe I'm a little more confident in my self. Still, being back there amidst the unbreakable cliques of forever friends and married pairs, I never felt more like the shriveling wall-flower that I was as a freshman in college, when I realized that I just didn't belong. Back then, I did made things work and I made good friends, a couple of whom are still quite near and dear to me. But as for the others, we've mostly lost touch and that's okay with everyone involved, I think.

Must I really remember my entire college experience by the way I performed at parties? Socially failing back then, I made the most of my excellent education and as as result my most wonderful memories take place in the library and during vivid discussions in my Lit seminar, as dorky as it sounds. A part from a handful of good friends, the people that I remember most-- those who made the deepest impression--were my professors. But I didn't see any of them this weekend.

I can't help but take note of the irony in the fact that reunion signifies a unification of sorts. My weekend felt like anything but. In fact, without my intellectual backbone, I felt totally dismembered and knocked out of rhythm. Reminded of my socially awkward days, I felt immediately ill in my skin and self-conscious of everything that I said. It dawned on me that this reunion business was all really just a dog show. We were all on parade.

Don't judge me. Forget the small talk. Don't most people prefer conversations that are more genuine? Conversations that have the power to continue and grow organically throughout the years? Conversations that build relationships and community? In that sense, I guess I did have high expectations for my Midd reunion: I guess I was hoping it could have been a little more intellectual and substantial. More academic, even, like in my best memories. And my proudest moments.