running in the rain

For many people, I think inclement weather is considered good reason enough to put off a workout. Not me though. I don't even need that excuse. For me, a mere "I'm tired," is enough to keep me from putting on my running shoes.

But the rain, I could run in the rain all day. I love the cool, wet on my face. The sound of puddles splashing as I pass by. The verdant landscape all around me that seems to pop with a bright spring green in big contrast to the gray skies above.

I think this rain-running love started way back when I was training on the ski and cross-country teams in school. When you're training, you don't just not run because it's raining. Your coach will see to that. So you learn to enjoy it.

But like I said before, it's not bad weather that holds me back. It's my excuses and lack of motivation. Without a coach around to hold me accountable, I'm realizing that I need a support system to keep me going when "I'm too tired" seems to roll off the tongue so easily these days. So the other day, my sisters and I decided to be each others' support systems.

But today, on the first day of the new motivated me, I texted them to see if they wanted to go running with me after work. Turned out neither of them could make it. I was feeling sorry for myself. For a little bit. But the thing about a support system is this: when all else fails you need to be able to support yourself.

So tonight I left work with all intentions to go running. I got home, fed the cats. I was hungry, so I had a snack. I could feel the urge to run waning with every minute I stalled. So I bargained with myself: "just go for a walk and if you feel like running, you can." That was enough to get me out the front door. But as soon as I got outside it started raining. A good, solid, steady rain. "I can't walk in this," I thought to myself. So I started running. I ran the whole way and got home drenched and hot and chilly all at the same time. But it felt so good. And I was so proud of myself for just doing it. All by myself. So I wanted to celebrate this little moment somehow. So here it is: I went running. Yay!

more snow

Finally, a good snow storm in Burlington. Make that two. One on Wednesday and one last night. The storm last night happened in a matter of a couple of hours. It was absolutely dumping. Emi and I went snowshoeing out on the golf course (the snow was blowing sideways!).  Then Hannah and Richard and Isaac came over and we all had family night dinner (sans Col who was en route to Germany for work). Kev made us barbecued ribs. And Hannah and Richard made the most amazing ice cream sundaes with warm stroopwafel cookies and strawberry sauce.

During our meal, it was thundering and lightening AND snowing! By the time dinner was over, the roads were a mess, but I was determined to drive home. I dropped Isaac off at his place, made it all the way to my driveway and then proceeded to firmly stick my car into a snowbank with my car protruding out in the middle of the road. Scary! Dangerous!

But by good fortune and because I live downtown and it was Saturday night and there were tons of people walking about, going to parties, enjoying the snow, I was able to get some help within seconds. It look three groups of people banding together and a person with a shovel to dig/push me out. But finally they did it!

I couldn't get in my driveway and I couldn't park on the street cause of the parking ban, so I waved them all a thank you goodbye and, with hands still shaking from the traumatic experience, drove back to Emi and Kevin's to park my car. Hannah and Richard were still there. The three of us walked home together.

The weather got rough during our walk. By the time we got to my place, it was after midnight and we were totally covered with icy chunks of snow. I could not wait to cozy up with the kitties and go to sleep.

Next morning, I woke up super-early and Kev and I drove to the mountain for some fresh powder. The conditions were amazing. We rode and skied hard all morning. We discovered new hidden trails I've never been on before. It was great to spend some quality time with my bro-in-law.

Later in the day... I met up with my two amazing sisters for a due-date pedicure. That's right, it's Emi's due date today! But she's still as preggers as ever. Which means that we sisters can keep on bonding and hanging before bk2 comes along. Wonder when that will be...

end-of-summers

When we were kids, I remember being on the road a lot. On the road to visit family. On the road to move. On the road to visit old places we once lived. Oftentimes, those road trips happened towards the end of summer. At this point though, my memories of those hours upon hours of riding in the car sort of blend together into one long road trip. On that road trip, Mummy points out the flowers growing on the side of the road. "End-of-summers" she used to call them. They were a soft periwinkle and waved to and fro in the breeze, still warm from the late summer sun. Tilting softy leaving a long shadow in start contrast on the gray pavement below—a still-life paradox that evoked joy and melancholy at the same time.

Only fitting, then, that to this day, my summers "end" in a road trip get-away. It's bittersweet. Only this year, we had two trips: one to Maine and one to Cape Cod.

Last weekend was Maine, Hannah, Brian, Isaac, Kevin, Emi, Sapphire, Colin and I hit the road on a Wednesday night and headed back to our old stomping grounds: Boothbay Harbor. We rented an old 1800s house on an inlet on Southport Island, just off of Boothbay. It was right near Hendricks Head beach where Mummy used to bring us girls as children. (Hendricks Head is where she brought us to see the jellyfish spawning at night and where we played "let's pretend" on Commercial Rock.) I haven't been back there since I was 7—over 20 years ago. Can you believe that not much has changed?

It was quite something to bring Colin to that place to experience with him some of those old memories—the handmade taffy machine in Boothbay Harbor, the sour apple flavored popcorn, the town trolley, to watch him jump off Commercial Rock into the seaweed beards below. We made new memories. Here's my favorite: the house where we stayed was called Watersong II. It was over 200 years old and still had a lot of the original plaster and wood work. It had character for sure! Hannah and Emi were convinced that there were ghosts in the attic. Any-who. The house sat perched on a slope leading down to a dock right on an inlet that led on one side to the little bay at Hendricks Head and on the other side towards Boothbay Harbor. There were two kayaks that we were welcome to use so long as we wore life jackets.

On the last day of our stay, Hannah and Brian had left early, but the rest of us decided to go to the little beach down the road from the house. Colin and I took the kayaks there. It was low tide and as we maneuvered toward the beach, through a maze of rocks and seaweed beards, we arrived at a place maybe 5 feet deep where the water was so clear and crisp and cold that you could see every living thing at the bottom. It was mostly rocks and mussel shells. But I spotted an empty sea urchin shell that was just gorgeous and pristine. I wanted it. But it was impossible to pick it up with the paddles and we decided to keep going and try for it on the way back.

We hung out at the beach for a while. The tide came in. By the time we got back to the place where I had seen the sea urchin, the water was so deep that we couldn't even touch bottom with the paddles. But we could still see the shell! All of a sudden, Colin did something that really surprised me. He handed me his phone, paddled up to one of the rocks, used to ledge to hoist himself out of the kayak and dove into the frigid water clothes and all. He did all of this before I even had time to react and resurfaced with the beautiful shell in hand.

"My hero!" I proclaimed. "But how on earth are you going to get back in the boat?" He managed though and we paddled back, me with the sea urchin nestled between my knees. My heart was throbbing with a new kind of admiration. The whole thing was just so romantic—like out of a cheesy rom-com. And now I have my beautiful shell to prove his most amazing manliness.

Still no sign of the End-of-Summers though. That didn't come till later...

my love is like a red, red rose sorbet

The other day, my sister Hannah brought me some fresh red currants she'd picked up at our parents' house in the Northeast Kingdom. She presented them to me with strict instructions to make a special sorbet. Special? Okay, here is my attempt, inspired by the champagne cocktails they used to serve at our favorite old (now gone) restaurant Smokejacks. They spiked them with rosewater and prickly pear juice to make them hot pink! Ooh, that gives me an idea: I bet this would be really good with champagne too. Instead, I added a little bit of gin (you could skip the gin, but the smidge of alcohol helps to give it a smoother texture when it's frozen).

Red Rose Sorbet

1 1/4 cup fresh red currants
1 cup fresh red raspberries
1/2 cup sugar (this is for a sweet-tart sorbet; if you like yours sweeter, by all means add more)
1 teaspoon lemon juice
A pinch of salt
1 teaspoon rose water (my local store sells it right by the vanilla)
1 teaspoon Hendrick's gin (optional)

Remove any stems from currents and rinse. Puree currants, raspberries, sugar, lemon and salt in a blender till smooth. Pass through a mesh sieve. Add rose water and gin, if using, and stir to combine. Freeze in an ice cream maker according to your machine's instructions. (Mine usually takes 20-25 minutes). Transfer to a lidded container and put in freezer till firm.

my best girls

My friend Kim just sent me this picture from last night. My sisters threw me the most amazing bachelorette dinner party with all my Burlington girls. I was on a cloud the entire night.



We all dressed up to the nines. Emi brought out her fine china and crystal. Emi & Hannah prepared a 5-course gourmet meal and each course was paired with a wine from a different country/girlfriend. It was very, very special. I feel so lucky. Love to all my girls. xoxo

snow, finally, snow

Well, it took a little patience, but we finally got our first big snowstorm of the season. Burlington got the most out of anywhere and they reported record snowfall at the airport—30 some odd inches. (I don't know what kind of measuring stick they were using over there; we got just around 2 feet at our house downtown.)

The entire weekend was a-snow. But there was a quiet moment around midday Sunday and I walked into town to run some errands. I couldn't believe all the snow piled high on Church Street! And there was still more to come...


Later last night, before family night dinner, the girls took a dusk snowshoe across the street at the golf course. Sapphire was tucked in snug as a bug. The snow was past our knees, but light as a feather.


It was even higher than the dogs. They got tired pretty quickly and stayed in the path the whole way back.


Yay snow!

girly nonsense

With our wedding now less than two months away, it's the only thing on my mind. I'm totally obsessed. Which means that if I write anything at all, it's most likely going to be wedding-related. (Sorry!) So here's an indulgent girly post:

I was never the kind of girl who fantasized about her wedding. But I did love to dress up. I used to sneak into my mother's closet and put on her wedding dress and attached the pretty opal costume brooch that her Gramsy gave her to wear on her wedding day. I didn't dream about ballgowns or white roses or limousines, but I did covet that brooch. So one day, I snagged it from my Mum's jewelry box—and I've been keeping watch over it ever since: I too will wear it on my wedding day. (Mum, I promise I'll return it afterwards!)


So now I've been searching for some earrings to match. Hannah and I were going to make some, but when we figured out that it would be cheaper to just buy them, I went straight to Etsy (of course!) and found the perfect pair of earrings from Marie Wu designs. Here they are, aren't they lovely?? At first I felt guilty about buying them, but then Hannah reasoned that I can pass these down to my daughter on her wedding day (or at least to Sapphie if I don't have a daughter). She said: It's your wedding day, afterall! And I said, You're right! And I'm so excited about these babies:

apples, apples everywhere

This weekend was one of those iconic fall weekends: beautiful crisp blue sky, foliage just starting to turn and apples, apples everywhere. Some would say, "Oh, isn't that nice" and "just be careful you don't get run over by them leaf peepers." But as twee as these Vermont country days do get, I never tire of them. A day in the apple orchard on a Sunday afternoon can make the most sinister being a believer in the Glad Game. Don't we all have nostalgia for our childhood—be it one we had or on we wish we had?

Well, Col and I decided to make a tradition of My Favorite Fall Weekend. This is the 2nd year to do it. The weekend falls sometime in October when the leaves are just starting to turn. This year seems a little late for foliage. Or am I dreaming? Anywho, My Favorite Fall Weekend starts with brunch at Shelburne Farms. I get a mimosa & veggies with my eggs Benedict. Col invariably gets the Bloody Mary and extra ham. (This time, he surprised me however, and dunked the two green olives from his garnish into his drink! Col doesn't like olives, you see, and usually lets me eat them.)

After brunch, we strolled the grounds for a bit. Then we sat in the Adirondack chairs and soaked up some sun.

Then we hopped in the car and headed for Shelburne Orchards.

Picking apples is much quicker than picking berries. The bag always fills up way too quickly it seems. We always say next year, we'll make a day of it and bring a picnic. But I prefer the brunch, truly.

We picked half a bushel of empires, macs and mutsu in less than a half hour. Then we went to the orchard store and bought cider, a healthy helping of Apple Betty with vanilla ice cream and a half dozen apple cider donuts. (I happen to believe that Shelburne Orchards makes the best cider donuts around, hands down. Apparently Au Lait thinks so too. She found them sitting out on the counter and nibbled a good chunk, before we could save the rest.)

Family dinner last night was all about the apples: I made a green salad with toasted almonds, chopped apples and a curry vinaigrette. Emi made an amazing mac & cheese with apples and squash mixed in. Hannah made a crumble with fresh apples and rhubarb from the freezer. Holy cow, was that meal amazing!

I've got pics and will post a few when I have more time.

xxx

feeling potty

I'm utterly engrossed in my work right now. In a good way. And I can't wait to be able to tell you all about it. But for now, you'll notice I'm away from my personal desk more than usual. (We all need a little escape from the computer screen!)

I took a break from it all this past weekend. One of my mostest friends Brooksie came to stay; my bestest sisters and mum in the world hosted the most amazing bridal shower for me; I got to see lots of family and girly friends; I was treated like a princess by everyone. It was incredible. Here's Brooksie at Leunig's wearing her new MJ tee:



And here's me at the shower opening my presents. Image courtesy of Kim. I was too busy to take photos this time. Thanks Kim!


(I got some really incredible gifts; it was rather overwhelming. People keep asking me what my favorite gift was, but they were just all so great, I really couldn't say, Sir!) We sat outside on the back lawn, sipped on spiked lemonade and nibbled yummy little treats including my favorite dried dates stuffed with Doe's Leap goat feta and pistachios. I was very nervous to have all that attention, but it ended up okay. Thank you to everybody near and far who came to my shower. It meant so much to me.

Well, a part from the amazing weekend where I was a lazy queen, I've been pretty busy. Mostly with work. But that hasn't stopped me from getting a gorgeous dinner on the table every night. The produce right now is just too wonderful to pass up. And as I know I've mentioned before, cooking helps me decompress after a long day at the computer.

Oh and they keep giving away food at work when they're done using it for photo shoots. Yesterday it was sweet corn on the cob. Tonight: heirloom tomatoes! Can you believe it? Here's the amazing dinner I made with them and some baby squash from the farmer's market. I cooked the squash in my new copper pot that Colin's mom gave us at the shower—Joan, the pot is unbelievably beautiful and it felt so good christening it with these beauties:

puppeteer

I'm tired but my eyes are bugging. Do you know that feeling? I knew I shouldn't have had that last cup of coffee at work. So now I'm sitting here on my bed in the dark, thinking just a little too much. I probably need a vacation. Not some semblance of one. Not a day or two here and there. But a real, veritable, drawn out, refreshing, reinvigorating vacation. These days, I hold my breath between 9 and 6. In the car on the way home, I exhale.

Maybe my eyes are bugging for other reasons. For one, the wind that's been blowing tonight is unsettling. Just as you put down your guard, it swoops up and knocks everything on its head. On top of that, those college kids next door are setting off fireworks again. Secondly, there are a lot of moving pieces in my life to watch and listen and oversee.

(Someone called me a puppet master [or something to that effect] at work today, because I like to work behind the scenes. I feel like that a lot of the times. But sometimes I like to be recognized too—doesn't everybody?)

Thirdly, I will see my sister Hannah this week. This is the most sudden fact of all. Do you even realize how excited I am to see her? But there's also hesitation. (Why always hesitation for me?? Colin would say it's because I'm "serious.") Okay, I'll call myself a puppet master for a minute (Colin might say "control freak" sometimes). I'm okay with that. But then it's hard when you want to be in control of everything and everyone. You want everything to be okay for them. But you just can't.

the doc & baby's big blowout

I absolutely adore my sisters. Did you know that? They're just so amazing, sometimes I can't even believe it. It was a big weekend for Emi-lou. After years and years of study and research, she officially received her PhD on Saturday. We went to her graduation ceremony and watched her being hooded. We were so proud!


Afterwards we celebrated at their place. Not even the rain could spoil our jovial business. Not even a flood (thanks to Kev's speedy work with the sump pump)!

Indeed that sister of mine has accomplished much in the past half-year. Not only has she become a doctor, but she has also become a mother—and a great one too! Yesterday, I spent much of the day with her, Kev and Sapphire. I was in a glum mood when I arrived, but immediately felt rejuvenated by their warm, uplifting energy.

Emi was so excited to show me Sappie's new dress. But almost as soon as she put it on her, the babe let out a genetically-correct air bubble from her nether parts (Papa Roger would've been proud). It turned out to be slightly more than that and I was so thrilled/appalled to witness my first baby blow-out. I just had to take pictures.

At first, it looked like a little French's mustard spilled on the back of her onesie:


But on closer inspection...


It was a little more serious. After a slight panic we managed to strip off the soiled clothes without soiling anything else. I hoped the dress wasn't spoiled, but Em already had yet another cute outift to put her in. At that point though, Sapphie's nerves had caught up with the moment and she started to fret. But she quickly found her thumb and self-medicated for a while (like mother, like daughter)...


Through it all, Emi remained graceful and pleasant. What a gal! What a mom! Pretty soon we were all fresh and giggles again!

playing hooky

I took the day off work today to hang out with my sis and baby Sapphie. We had no plans, no agenda. We walked into town. We got coffee. We got lunch. We did a little shopping. It was perfect. Sapphie was wearing her new sweater that Mummy knit for her. She looked so cute! Here are some gratuitous pics of my niece (and one of Em too):

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.)

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's up, saturday morn

I hope Au Lait doesn't hate us forever. We had to bring the cats in for their check-ups this morning. She hates the vet. It was pretty much a disaster. She lashed out at the doctor so badly he had to go disinfect his wound and put quick-stop on it to stop the bleeding. The vet couldn't do the examination and told us not to bring her in again unless she gets sick or needs a shot. And if that happens, they'll have to put her under anesthesia to do an examination. It was that bad. But he was really nice about. "Occupational hazard," he said.

Suki was a doll. She watch the whole disaster take place without blinking an eye. And when it was her turn, she sat through the entire examination without moving or making a sound—even when they stuck the thermometer up her bum. Still, I think I'm traumatized now as much as Au Lait is and I'm glad we don't have to go back for a while.

This has to be one of the most gorgeous weekends we've had in a long time. The to-do list is long, but right now, we're just sitting around, drinking coffee, watching people walk by.

Hannah's coming this week. We're hosting a baby shower for our sis. The count-down has begun. Yay!

stale--or fabulous?

Papa e-mailed Hannah and me tonight to tell us that our blogs are stale. Poop. I know. The irony being that the state of my blog is inversely proportional to the state of my life: Stale blog = Pretty freakin' great life (who has the time to write?). So now that things have settled down, here's a little color from the past coupla weeks. It was tough to choose just a few highlights:

Colin and I went to the market, packed a picnic and spent a sunny Sunday afternoon down on the waterfront with each other—and a bottle of wine. We discovered some great new cheeses and we took the time to breath and remind ourselves why we love this town so much. It was the first time I had been to the waterfront in over a year.

Then, I went to Florida.


I went with my parents to visit Mama Sonia (my grandmother) in Winterpark. I was so glad to be able to see her for a few days. The first day we got there, she wasn't feeling very well at all and I was discouraged. But towards the end of our visit, she was almost her old self again and quite chipper. I couldn't stop crying when I said goodbye. But I don't think she saw.

Mama Sonia gets tired a lot these days. While we were there, she napped a lot, so Mummy, Papa and I would go to Park Avenue and blow off some steam. Here's a chocolate mousse that Mummy and I had one day at 310 (yes, the same place of the infamous doggy doo incident last year). It was 90 degrees out, but we still sat outside—we were so fed up with freezing air conditioning at that point.


We got back to Burlington the night of July 4th and Colin picked us up from the airport. All of a sudden I was home and it was as though the whole week hadn't happened. July 4th hadn't happened—I missed the entire celebration. Florida was only in memories. And yet, Burlington seemed kind of distant too. I was a little messy in my head. Colin and I walked into town so I could ground myself. It was 10 at night, but good old Leunig's was still serving dinner, so I got a salad (they have the best grilled tofu in the world there). Colin got his favorite cheese plate. And we both ordered some sauvignon blanc to take the edge off a hot night. I was feeling myself again.

Then, we woke up and it was Emi's birthday weekend and all a blur. On Saturday, we went to their pool—it turned into a pool party. We all got some color and relaxation. Then we went home and got ready for a surprise birthday dinner!


Emi and Kev came to our house beforehand, so we could give her gifts and have yummy raspberry fizzy drinks on the porch. She got moulah and Chanel lip gloss from mummy & papa. A Tiffany charm bracelet from her two favorite sisters (we started her off with a "Sister" charm!). A summer full of musical fun from Col (he gave her a bunch of CDs). And tickets to the Feist concert at Shelburne Museum the next day with the whole gang, sans Poopy :-(

After gifts, we went to Trattoria Delia for a very special dinner with friends. I think Emi had a really good time.

The next day, I spent about 5 hours in the kitchen making potato salad, three-bean salad, lemon cream and other goodies for a picnic. We headed to Shelburne Museum around 6 and enjoyed one of the best summer evenings so far, a delicious picnic with friends and an awesome concert with Juana Molina and Feist.


In between all of this, we've been diligently tying up all the loose ends with the new place. Our closing is happening in less than two weeks. I'm still crossing my fingers; I think it's really going to happen!

Papa, since you were wondering—we were hoping you could help us with this crack in the plaster:


xoxo

just what the doctor ordered

I came home from work tonight and found a neat little note sitting on my kitchen counter. It was from Hannah (she left this morning) and I hope she doesn't mind, but I'm writing it here, just so I can have it for always.

Dear Soupy ~

I'm so glad that we got to hang out this weekend, it really was lovely, just perfect. Thanks for having me at your sweet little home, with your cute little kitties who I adore. Can't wait for the next time to see you... in CA? Or VT? Or NY? We'll see...

Love you love you love you. Just what the Dr. Ordered—a weekend with my sistawrs...

Hannah Poopy

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!