serving as a reminder

I always feel nostalgic when the seasons charge. Don't you? The slight shifts in light, in temperature, in style stir the inner spirit and remind us of the last time we felt this way. Might've been last year. Might've been 10 years ago.

Colin comes home today after a 3-week work trip in Canada and Asia. I'm so thrilled! Last night, I was thinking about him coming home and I was feeling nostalgic about our relationship. It's been over four years since we started dating, almost four since we starting dating for real. And a lot has changed since then. I was looking at pictures...can people really change that much in just four years? Our skin looks different, our eyes, our demeanor. In the pictures from that time, everything looks fresh and exciting and new. That may not be the case so much today. Afterall, things age with time. But I would never in a million years wish to go back. I want to be here in this moment.

I went through pictures from a couple years ago when Suki was a little kitten. We lived in our old place with the big porch and lake view. I miss that place. I miss a lot of things. But I would never in a million years wish to go back.

I want to be here in this moment.

Nostalgia is such an incredible conflict of emotions and desires. You feel comforted by the memories, but also saddened by them a little bit. Because something gained is something lost.

Our relationship is so much deeper and stronger and happier than it was. I guess that means what we've lost is a certain amount of predictability and fearlessness. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I feel conflicted.

What I do know is that we would both like to be more spontaneous. And that's a good thing! We shan't fall prey to nostalgia. Rather, let is serve as a reminder of the things we cherish.

I'm so excited the boy's coming home. Now, what shall I make for dinner??

o christmas tree, oh my!

This weekend, Col and I went to get our Christmas tree. It's going to be our first tree in the new place, plus we're hosting Christmas dinner this year, so Col had his heart set on 1) the biggest tree ever and 2) cutting our own.

He did some research and found a tree farm in Stowe, called Paine's, not far from the mountain access road, so we went there after snowboarding on Saturday.

When we arrived, we asked one of the guys, "where are your biggest trees?" He told us we'd have to walk all the way to the back of the property to find them. The walk was at least a half mile, but we were up for it. So we grabbed a saw and were off. We held hands the whole way. It was quite romantic actually.



We finally found the tall ones. The were really tall. But kind of scraggly around the middle. So we kept searching, zig-zagging in and out of tree lines, over stumps, under branches. Suddenly, I backed myself into a ditch and my foot landed in a deep puddle of ice water. It was so cold and wet! But I was determined to keep my spirits up. So we kept looking.

Finally, we found it. Our tree. It was perfect! Full and beautiful. And perfect. Here it is:

So we found it, but then we had to cut it down. Col got down on his knee to inspect the trunk and bottom branches. Then this happened:


"Will you marry me?" he said and burst into tears. That's right, Col pulled me down under the tree and proposed right then and there. It was the most romantic thing in the whole world. I was completely surprised and unprepared, but I managed to squeak out an "Of course I will!" before we both turned into puddles. The man in the tree tractor drove by at least once. He must have wondered what the heck we were doing.

After our little romantic session, we still had to cut down the tree. You know what they say about big trees: Big trees, big trunk. It took a while, Col was still shaking from the whole ordeal, but finally that man of mine cut down the tree.

We spent the rest of the weekend calling family and friends, drinking champagne, and of course trimming the ginormous tree, which, by the way, fits perfectly in our place.

And tonight we made some origami peace cranes for ornaments. Aren't they cool?


Holy crap, we're engaged. Loveyoubye

col gets interviewed

I interviewed my boy Col for NPR's National Day of Listening. We went snowboarding together on Friday after Thanksgiving and I interviewed him on the way to the mountain, at the mountain, in the lift and then finally at home. I thought the location was very fitting.

Colin couldn't understand why I wanted to interview him. It's not because he has a lot of history under his belt--he's only 32 years old. But we both lead very busy lives and sometimes we can go through an entire week without really talking to each other. It felt good to set aside an hour of time to have a conversation and get to know each other again. He enjoyed it too, I think, and was honored to be asked.

Here are some excerpts from our conversation:

On personal accomplishments:



A favorite memory:



On life influences:

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

what other presents?

By the way, I'm still doing the present a day thing for Col's birthday. Tuesday, I gave him a subscription to Dwell magazine. Yesterday, some DVDs. Today, I did him a favor. Not quite sure what's in store for tomorrow. We're driving down to New York after work. Maybe I'll give him this: a good attitude for the entire 6 hours in the car :-)

serviced

There used to be something gratifying about talking to customer service. You had this feeling that everything would be okay. The woman on the other end would call you by first name and you would call her "Mary" back. You'd talk about the weather in Phoenix and she'd say, "I've always wanted to visit Vermont. Now let's get your problem taken care of."

These days, Mary has changed. She's still warm and friendly. She still says she wants to help. But she's powerless. She doesn't know how to help. She asks you to do the same thing over and over. She says things are fixed, but you have to call her back the next day to report, "No, it's still the same problem. What do I do now?" Only this time, it's not Mary anymore. It's Bob. And he has no record of your phone call with Mary. Service is a time suck.

Or is it me? Are my expectations too high?

I just want everything to be fixed. Right now. I don't want any more 20-minute holds with the bill payment department. I don't want to be shoved from one customer representative to the next. I want my packages to arrive on time and in good condition. And I want this to be my last game of musical cars, as I try to get to the repair shop for the third time this month.

Please and thank you.

I'll stop whining now.

better to be right—or happy?

Colin's been working a lot of late—I mean late—nights these days. So much so, that this afternoon when he told me he wouldn't make it home for dinner again and he probably wouldn't be home before I went to bed, I completely lost my cool. I told him this had to stop—if not for his sanity, then at least for his health. I told him he had to figure it out once and for all. Talk to his boss. Talk to HR. Just figure it out. I mean, this isn't Wall Street, for crying out loud, this is Burlington, Vermont. After a few more terse remarks, we both decided that conversation was not appropriate for the phone—or the workplace—and hung up feeling shitty and down.

"I need a run," I thought to myself. "I need to come up with a plan so that we can figure this out once and for all." I drove home from work completely distracted. Fuming that Col was so willing to come up with reasons (excuses in my mind) why this time was so important. Why this week is so busy. Next week will be different.

During my run, I almost completely missed the beautiful sunset—and the beautiful evening—because I was so worked up on working things out. But finally towards the end of my run, I started feeling better. I knew I was right and I was going to show him. In my mind, I had come up with a punch list of all the items that were wrong with our situation and all the ways he was going to fix them.

I ran up the stairs and into our apartment loaded with ammo, but feeling a sudden knot of recognition in my stomach. "We've been here before," I thought. "If this approach didn't work then, why would it work now?"

And then I wondered: Why was I so angry? Was it because he really let me down? Or was it simply because I wasn't in control? I had to admit, I think it was the latter. After all, all I really wanted was to have dinner with him. And if that was all, then I had a very simple solution.

I picked up the phone and dialed Col's work. He answered right away.

"Hello?"

"Hey Luv," I said. "How ya doing?"

"Okay." He sounded tired.

"I'm sorry about earlier." I said.

"Me too."

"Are you hungry? Have you eaten today?"

"I'm starving. All I've had to eat all day is chips from the vending machine."

"Can I bring you dinner? I can make you a sandwich. And salad. How's that sound?"

"Would you really?? That would be so awesome."

That horrible weight, that horrible knot—it immediately melted away. And after we hung up, I whipped up the best brown bag dinner ever:

• 2 salami cheddar sandwiches on honey bread
• Romaine salad with blue cheese, tamari almonds and homemade Buttermilk Ranch Dressing
• Pretzel sticks with my homemade Boursin cheese dip (Col's favorite!)
• An entire sleeve of Girl Scout thin mints (his other favorite!)
  
• And a Corona
  

I drove to Burton and presented my peace offering to Col with great pride. He was so excited to see me and tell me what he was working on. We set up his little picnic at one of the work tables, and there—admidst papers and charts and fabric samples—we had dinner together, while the cleaning ladies vacuumed around our feet.

Yes, it was a proud moment. Relationships teach you a lot about yourself. Tonight I learned that your faults—no matter how deeply ingrained—are easily remedied if you take the time to pause and consider your options. In the same moment that I realized I'm a control-freak, I learned to tame the "control" urge and use it for good: by taking control in a fragile situation. Not by pushing, but by leading. And that is a good feeling.

Phew! Another crisis diverted!

wash me trousers & the birth of butter boots

I probably shouldn't be telling you any of this. I should keep it locked up forever in the memories of those select few who were there. To keep it safe and untouched by the outside world. To keep the pub and the field and the memory just as they were. But to lock it up would also risk losing the story forever. For, what happens to unspoken memories? They fade.

So I've decided to tell—to share this sacred memory—if only for the sole purpose of keeping the story vibrant and living.

It all began with a woman, a pub and a tub of butter. Well, not real butter—the spread kind that's made from oil. She would never rub real butter on her Ferragamo boots... lest it become rancid and spoil the fine leather...

But it really started here: at the Square & Compass, a fine English pub situated on a hillside by the sea in the Dorset village of Wash Me Trousers (not its real name). We ventured there one sunny spring day during our visit to Uncle Richard's et al in search of their infamous meat pasties (prounouced pas-tē—I'm ashamed to say we were pronouncing the word incorrectly that day) and cider. The real-deal cider.



The pasties and cider were out of this world. They quite made our heads spin. And by the end of lunch, the whole lot of us were giddy as kids. So we decided to walk it off on a public footpath by the sea.

So we started our refreshing afternoon outing. The boys walked on ahead, while we three sisters hung back. We were enthralled in a conversation about my boots and how nice they looked. (I had polished them with butter that morning, upon the suggestion from my sister Emma, when there was no wax to be found in the cottage where we were staying.) The three of us concurred: tub butter, in a pinch, makes a very nice shoe polish.

All of a sudden...



And Butter Boots, our great Super Hero, was born. And she grew. And we made up more and more stories for her. She had super powers. She had back-up dancers. She had pink rubber gloves. She would save the world from evil criminals and even hemorrhoids. But that was then.

If you're wondering where she is now, I haven't a clue. The thing is, well, she can only come to life when the three Wall sisters are reunited again. I'm not sure if she'll ever grace Vermont or California with her presence (Butter Boots and her ladies are distinctly English). But I'm sure we'll find her one day, back in Wash Me Trousers. In the field with the cow pats and sheep. In the wheel well. With a jug of cider from the Square & Compass and Cornish pasty in hand. That's where the magic is. So, we'll be back to find her one day. Ahoy, Butter Boots!

happy sad, part deux

Is this the year of life? Last year, friends moved away. In the spring, my grandfather passed. Then Granny Dot in the summer. Then our old family dog Caleb soon after. Then we got Suki. Little kitty, lovely kitty. To bring the old lady cat Au Lait some new life.

Is this then the year of life?

Elisa just had her baby a few days ago. Precious Zoe. Nicci will pop soon enough!

There will be weddings. At least four this summer... maybe more to come. I had to buy silver shoes for one of them. They came in the mail today. Must send them back. Too silver. Too tight.

When people get married, they lose a little piece of you. Or is it the other way around? When people get married, you lose a little piece of them. When people have babies, they gain a new world. Their life purpose is made more concrete. You start feeling a little more lost in the world.

When people go and buy a house, you're still a renter.

That's just how I feel right now. When we got Suki, Au Lait became just a little bit sadder. She always will be now—just a little bit sadder.

I think it's okay for me to feel this way. To feel left out during the great milestones of other people's lives. It's not that I'm jealous or that I want to be the one in the gown or in the maternity clothes. Or in the coffin. I don't just yet. Truly. I'm not ready to be there myself. Just yet.

It's just that when others are at those milestones—the weddings, the births, the passings—they're substantiated in so many ways. By cultural affirmations, physical affirmations, public affirmations, ceremonies and celebrations. At that moment, any old person can look upon them and say, "So, that's where they are in life."

Whereas, those of us who are not quite there yet—those of us who are still working towards great milestones—are left floating around the sidelines, semi-transparent. Indescribable and so therefore somewhat invisible. Swooping in every now and then to affirm, to listen, to praise and to celebrate the lives of others. Happy, yet hardly noticeable in the grand scheme of things.

It's okay to feel this way. I think it's perfectly normal for everyone to feel this way—at some point in their life.

Still, I'm quite sure this will be a year of life. Yes, I'm quite sure of it.

doggy bag anyone?

Something's happened to the town of Winterpark. I like to call it the Paris Hilton syndrome. The dogs are everywhere—and I mean everywhere. They have cute little sweaters. They get special treatment in the fancy boutiques. They ride in strollers. They're Lassies who lunch. Yes, lunch.

Yesterday Emi and I were strolling around Park Avenue and decided to grab a bite to eat at 310. We sat outside for some fresh air and immediately found ourselves in the midst of some kind of surreal dog kennel. The two ladies sitting at the table behind us had three dogs with them. Two of the dogs had massive Christmas wreaths hanging around their necks. Looking around it became clear that there were dogs at most of tables (at a restaurant that sells Conundrum by the glass).

The dogs sitting at our resto seemed to have some kind of barking comepetition with the dogs who were lunching across the street at Park Plaza Gardens. When people walked by with their dogs, the commotion increased tenfold. (Some relaxing lunch!)

Suddenly, I spotted the hound behind us lay out his runny business all over the sidewalk next to our table. We were so appalled and distressed that we took a picture of the stain (to come). The ladies wearing Tiffany earrings and silk pashminas were saying, "it happens!" whilst throwing their arms up in the air. Yes, it happens, but not on Park Avenue while we're trying to enjoy our glass of La Crema. And I'm sure the pups would agree (the hound, by the way, seemed unimpressed by the situation, but he was chained to the table and so had no choice.)


As soon as the woman tried feeding him water out of the sugar bowl, I knew it was the last straw. The waitress came over and told her they had special bowls for dogs and took away the sugar pot with a sweep of her large white napkin. She refused to service the table from that point forward.

We did enjoy our lunch and the entertainment with it. I just feel bad for the dogs.

tons of photos from the weekend

We took lots of photos over the weekend—in Katonah for Thanksgiving and then in New York. Here are some of my faves. If you're feeling ambitious, you can see the full lot here.

visiting spencer & courtney

It's always so much fun visiting our friends Courtney and Spencer in New York. They like to show us a good time. And they like to do the same kinds of things we like to do when we have the day off—like eating yummy meals at nice restaurants, walking around and going into shops, and having dance parties in the living room.

We took the train in yesterday from Katonah, dropped our bags off at their place on St. Mark's Place in the East Village and went to grab lunch at Jane. I got an arugula salad with dried cranberries, roasted pumpkin seeds and blue cheese and a glass of viognier. It was the perfect Saturday afternoon lunch. They have really good french fries at that restaurant—they cook them with rosemary, just like my mom's roasted potatoes.

After lunch we walked around, went into shops, waited in the bathroom line for 25 minutes at Starbucks. Yeah, that's right, 25 minutes. Checked out some more shops and then stopped in for a drink at Lolita—a chill bar with some pretty snazzy light fixtures and a good soundtrack. They were playing Arcade Fire the whole time we were there. We were totally into it.

We came home for a while. Had some drinks. Courtney told us about her new exciting job. Spencer and Colin played music. We danced a little. And then went out. We sort of forgot about dinner. So before bed we got pizza slices at Strombolis. It was the perfect New York night.

This morning Colin and I got up and walked to the Porto Rico coffee shop a couple blocks away. It's very small. Only a couple of people can fit in there at the same time, because the whole back of the shop is taken up by big burlap bags full of coffee beans. The place has got charm. Last time we were there it was pouring buckets and buckets. But today the skies were bright blue and clear, so we sat on the bench outside the shop, drank our coffee, and watched the styley people walk by.

One guy carried a boom box that was blasting rap music. It seemed a little early for that. Col said, "I bet he pressed play right when he woke up." (The guy was totally jamming.) I said, "Maybe he never turned it off from last night."

A gorgeous French couple ducked into the coffee shop. I always get a funny feeling in my tummy when I hear people speak French. The woman had a great outfit on. A guy in rollerblades skidded to a stop right in front of us and dashed in to get a pastry for breakfast. (I'm liking this coffee shop more and more). Rollerblade man dashed out as quickly as he dashed in and almost got hit by a car as he rolled into the street. A woman was buying a bagfull of chocolate-covered espresso beans for her daughter who was going off to school. There were more people, but I'm too tired to write about it.

We got brunch with Spencer and Courtney and then we went into a second-floor toy shop called Toy Tokyo. Colin bought four more metal robots to add to his collection. We'll need another shelf to hold them all now.

We're back at the apartment. Courtney's reading in the bedroom. Colin and Spencer are watching Return of the Jedi. And I'm at my computer. We're eating skittles to take the edge off breakfast. And that's that for now. Maybe I'll just take a little nap...

are you living a sustainable life?

Play this Consumer Consequences game from America Public Media to find out how many Earths it would take to sustain humankind if everyone lived like you.

I just played and was appalled to discover it would take 2.9 earths if everyone lived like I do, but then I compared myself to Kai Ryssdal from Marketplace and didn't feel so badly. Much room for improvement...

nylon thinks burlington is cool

If you Burlingtonians haven't checked out the November issue of Nylon magazine yet, you should. There's a story on Burlington with some familiar faces printed therein! The article itself is kind of cutesie and patronizing: "Northern Exposure: On a roadtrip to Burlington, Vermont, we discover cool shops, a burgeoning Indie music scene, no shortage of stylish denizens...and not a single cow in sight." But they mention the Possibility Shop as "thrift-hunter's heaven" which leads me to believe that an insider's hand is involved. I hope they don't ruin it forever...

Other mentions include our friend Sarah's Made Boutique, Maven, Green Closet, Steez, etc.... And for music Marie Claire, James Kochalka, The Cush, and The Smittens with a photo of the one and only David Zacharis. And more!

stream of colin-ness

“Can you write about rainy day weekends and how they make you wanna hang out and be with the cats and think about what movie you wanna see and what popcorn you wanna eat. It could have a light coating of Parmesan cheese or even taco seasoning. I don't know.

“Sometimes I get the urge to order chicken wings in the morning for breakfast. It's only 8:35 though. I just made coffee. Coffee and chicken wings would not taste good together. Fresh pineapple would be good though.

“When I opened up my eyes this morning. I thought it was snowing. But then I realized my eyes were still hazy. But, it reminded me that winter is soon on its way and we'll soon wake up to snow-falling skies. Which will be NICE!

“My back hurts. I could probably use some Advil. It's from lifting boxes yesterday at our Trailer Trash party at work. It was fun, because we gave people the option to partake in the most extreme challenge--or should I say challenges. They ate pickled eggs. Cat food sandwiches. Chugged milk. Swallowed spoonfuls of cinnamon. Chicken winged outerwear dressed bike marathon challenge. That was fun to watch. All of this to get their free Burton outfit for this coming season.

“Yeah, I think going to see a movie is a good idea today.”

secrets, sister, blah blah

It's Hanushka's birthday today. I called her to make sure she was having a good day. I gave her all the gossip I was good for (not much) and she repaid me with the best gossip of my life. Enough to elicit a gasp so loud it woke Colin up from his nap on the couch. Now I can't tell you what it is though, can I?

Before the call, I was working on Eat Peas and watching some old sitcoms: Designing Women, Perfect Strangers, and Whose the Boss. Colin came home during Whose the Boss and he got hooked right in too.

"Remember the good old days when there were just sitcoms and no reality shows?" I said.

"Yeah," Colin agreed. "Like Full House, Growing Pains, the Cosby Show, Webster..."

I told Hannah about the sitcoms. She was like, "No way! I was just watching Whose the Boss too! Was it the one when Sam gets caught for cheating on her French test?"

And I was like, "Yeah! Ohmygod, that's so weird." Turns out ironically that she was switching back and forth between Whose the Boss and some reality show I've never heard of called I Love New York. Oh, the webs we weave...

Meanwhile, the new Eat Peas post is up, and it's a good one too, I might add!


Here's a picture from yesterday. That's about as much of the beautiful day I got to enjoy since I was working on those freakin' menus for work all afternoon. Oh, and then we did go to Isaac's birthday party last night at Red Square (he and Hanushka have the same birthday) which was pretty uneventful. Except that some drunk guy tripped over some cables and pulled down the speakers and projector that were broadcasting the Red Socks game on the side patio. Which was fine by me and quite funny actually (all the security guards went running).

Good night, sweet dreams, and DLTBBB!

the secret life of yo-yos

I walked into the bedroom this morning after my shower to find Colin in bed with his computer. A common occurrence. But this time, he shied away and hid the screen from my view.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Just some research," he replied mischievously and grinned.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I asked again, this time more adamantly and grabbed his laptop. There filling his screen was a giant picture of a yo-yo.

This might be a good moment for me to interject a little secret about my boy: it wasn't until we'd been dating for about a year and a half that I discovered his obsession with professional weight frisbees and yo-yos. The frisbees is another story, but the yo-yo craze originated from 6 months of unemployment with his friend Dan in Northampton, Massachusetts. They had a lot of time to practice. The rest of the story is vague to me, but what I do know is that Col has a lot of tricks up his yo-yo sleeve and if you're lucky, he'll pull them out in close company. And so he did a few weeks ago down in Nantucket much to the surprise of everyone present.

Col's passion for yo-yos goes hand in hand with his love for gadgets. And so, he is always looking for the next best thing. And that's how I found him this morning with the question "what yo-yo do professionals use" in his Google search box.

At this point, I was now sitting next to Col wide-eyed and dumbfounded. I was intrigued. The search eventually brought us to a YouTube video of famed yo-yo star Hiroyuki Suzuki dazzling his audience in a recent competition.

All I could think of to say, over and over, was, "Oh my gosh, what the heck is that? What is he doing? How does he do that?" We were dazzled.

After the video, I realized this yo-yo craze actually has a legitimate underground following (mostly in Asia). And, as it turns out, Hiroyuki Suzuki uses a Yo-Yo Nation Speeder, just in case you were wondering (yoyonation.com).

"Are you going to get it?" I asked once Col made this fabulous discovery.

"Nah," he said. "It's kind of expensive."

"How much?"

"Forty-five dollars."

"For a yo-yo?" I asked in disbelief remembering my good old $2 red Duncan butterfly (same Duncan whose Freehand MG runs for $499 retail).

I really had no idea.

As we speak, Col's now researching the Duncan Metal Zero--same price as the Yo-Yo Nation Speeder, I point out, but I can see that Col's eyes are already glossed over, hypnotical style. He's getting sucked into yo-yo world faster that I can say, "Rock the cradle!" And I'm letting him do it. Actually, I think it's kind of cool: my boy the yo-yo star.

flatbread night and other good food

A weekend of culinary enterprise:

Last night I went to Emi & Kev's for grilled flatbread night. Flatbread night is a running tradition among our family and friends that started a couple of years ago--everyone who's invited brings toppings for one pizza. It's always fun to discover each individual's creative undertakings. Being a bunch of foodies, this harmless dinner party theme has become somewhat competitive too.

Since I had been to farmer's market that morning, I decided to do a simple margarita pizza with local heirloom totals, basil, fresh mozzarella, garlic, and--for a twist--Japanese cucumber. All thinly diced. It was delicious and beautiful. But though I won the prize for presentation, I concede that Bannister and Isaac's chicken and asparagus pie won for flavor. I really liked Emi's too, which had thinly sliced zucchini, spicy tomato sauce, and habanero cheddar.

* * * * *

The night before I went to Becky & Ewen's for mango bruschetta and sangria. I loved the sangria with so much chopped up fruit floating on top--plums, blueberries, pears, strawberries. The mango was fabulous with fresh chopped mint and a goat cheese base.

* * * * *

And today. Today, I took the big old honker of zucchini that Lorraine gave me last week and made the most fabulous muffins: grated zucchini, chocolate chips, toasted almond, and--get this--fresh chopped basil. The basil was a fabulous compliment to the dark chocolate and grassy zucchini flavor. Yum!

col does it again

Remember a while back I wrote about how Col surprised me by going out and buying more cream for my coffee when I was in the shower? Well, he did it again! And what's more, he bought some milk for my cereal. That Col.

He also bought us both tickets for the Band of Horses show tonight at Higher Ground, which I'm eagerly awaiting!

spontaneous berries

Col and I made a long list of things to do yesterday. We even numbered the list 1 through 13. We only made it to number 3 though. That's because number 2 brought us to an auto parts store near our house (to get a replacement bulb for one of my headlights). It was closed so we drove down further on Shelburne Road to Advanced Auto. They had what we were looking for.

Then we were stuck. Number 3 entailed a hardware store, but we had driven far away from the one Aubuchon in South Burlington. Luckily I remembered that there's a cute little hardware store in Shelburne Village. It had everything we needed: replacement bulbs for our track lighting, silver polish for my jewelry, and minuscule metal washers to repair our Asian floor lamps. Gotta love hardware stores, huh? They have everything you ever need, from bike locks and dog bones to wheelbarrows and toilet lids.

Any-who.

After that successful stop, Col and I were feeling a little giddy--and a little spontaneous. We stopped by the Shelburne General Store for some penny candy. It was then I realized.

"Hey, we're not far from the berry farm," I said. "Let's go picking!"

Col thought it was a great idea. He's all for spontaneity. Any time. Any where.

So we did it, we kept driving down Route 7 towards Charlotte. Right before the berry farm, we caught sight of the Charlotte flea market. "Pull over!" I yelled.

Without hesitation Col swerved the car down over the embankment and into the field-cum- parking-lot next to the market stands. We walked by tables of dream catchers and antique cigarette lighters. We walked by dusty old beer mugs and Samurai swords. Good old all-American veterans selling shotguns and switchblades. Gypsy skirts. Arctic Cat boots and snowmobile helmets. One man was selling good luck charms and Japanese fans with electric blue dolphins and cowboy horses painted on them. He said to us, "We've got a special going on today: anything's free in exchange for green paper."

"Nice one," I said as we smiled and inched away. Sufficiently freaked out, we hopped in the car and headed down the road to the berry farm.

It's blueberry season now, and they're abundant! But we also managed to scrounge up a pint of
fresh raspberries too. I used them to make a scrumptious Raspberry Almond Crumb Tart that we gobbled up in one sitting.

Berry picking was certainly a highlight of the day. The warm August sun was shining down. I was spending some much-needed alone time with my boy. And the berries were so ripe and tasty off the branch--still warm from the sunshine. I got a little nostalgic remembering my childhood in the berry bushes. What fabulous little memories this day conjured up.

On the way home, we were deterred from our to-do list once again: Emi and Kev called to see if we wanted to hang out pooly-side. Sweet!

We zoomed home and hopped into our bimmers (that's mummy-speak for swimsuits) and went over to Em & Kev's--bountiful berries in hand.

After soaking up some rays and getting to a very good point in my book of the now (On Beauty by Zadie Smith) we went inside and made dinner. I whipped up the aforementioned tart and Emi made beer-can grass-fed chicken on the grill. What a fabulous ending to a fabulous day! (Even though we only made it to number 3 on our list).