And you may ask yourself...

Well, how did I get here?

All day long the lyrics to the Talking Heads kept pushing themselves into my brain. Frankly, I'm mostly relieved that this has replaced this.

But still...when I focused on what I was humming, I realized that "letting the days go by..." was getting to me.

December 31st.

As I said here in the nascent days of eyeblog, I feel much more invigorated, energized and ripe for reform at the start of school, than at the start of the new year. And anything which at this stage of the game involves my kids wanting to stay up way past my bedtime is not going to score points with me.

But still...one can't help but to pause and reflect. I feel that both in our home life and our "gallery" life, this year was one of moving forward and hitting our stride. A lot of the fits and starts that we went through began to smooth out, and our hard work pay off, and, perhaps most significantly, we began to recognize that things are working.

I am not too proud (or too delusional) to tell you that it has been hard, and that things don't always work so well around here.

But still...here we are. The kids are growing beautifully, and faster than we can buy them pants and shoes. The gallery has a small but solid roster of artists we are honored to show. We have come up for air enough to appreciate having both a family and a business that we love (if, indeed, with differing intensity!)

Sometime this summer, I was looking around the internet for information about the new place we were going to in Maine, and I stumbled upon something I was completely unfamiliar with: a blog. That blog happened to be Swallowfield, and it was like nothing I'd ever seen.

I went on from there, following links to other blogs, until my head was spinning with images and information I couldn't help but feel both envious of and encouraged by. I shot off an e-mail to Tim, the gist of which was "honey, we need to get inspired". If there were all these amazing people out there making art and living life with so much passion, humor, and beauty, why were we so bogged down? We had the raw materials, now we just needed some oomph.

Well...we got it. And what happened in this fall's election, and what is about to happen January 20, was a big part of that, for us.

It is with this energy and excitement that we are putting on The Obama Show: Group Thought. We will feature work that is in some way inspired by not only our next president himself, but by what this election means personally-to us, and to each of the artists in the show. As I've mentioned here before, we're thrilled to have Jennifer Judd-Mcgee contributing, as well as Rob Larson, (our own) Tim Thayer, and others, including for the first time at eyebuzz, a video installation.

So, here we are, at the end of the year, at the start of something new, looking forward. My wish to all of you is that you find some inspiration this year, too, in whatever it is that you love.

Looking forward. I couldn't ask for more. Thanks for reading.

tt

Blogroll, please

As promised here, to all of you, and over a glass of wine, to Kathleen: some blogs that I love to read, look at, and think about. That I don't start or end my day without checking in with. That inspire me to keep on doing this, despite a nagging feeling that I might have some other things that should come first.

Swallowfield
Moments of Perfect Clarity
Diary of a Mad, Mad Housewife
SouleMama
A Foothill Home Companion
Mommycoddle
Sprink
The Glass Doorknob
All Buttoned Up
Tiny Happy
Wikstenmade
The Scent of Water
The Spirit of the River
A Friend to Knit With
House on Hill Road
KnotSewCrafty
Commonplace
and, this just in...
MamasAlwaysWrite


Disclaimer #1: One of the reasons I don't have a standing blogroll is that I really like my privacy, reading wise, and I fear that listing these will expose some sort of blogging ADD affliction, split-personality, or, at least, leave you scratching your head wondering what the common thread is. There is none. Some I love for the writing, some for the photography, the design, the art, the peek into someone else's domestic world...whatever.

Disclaimer #2: This is an incomplete compilation of places I go. But it's a starting point. Usually I take all of these fine blogger's suggestions, anyway, and go all sorts of great places from their sites. I suggest you do the same. (For instance, Kathleen, Moments of Perfect Clarity has all of those South African blogs I was telling you about, especially Heather Moore's.)

I hope you find something among these that pleases and inspires you. Thanks for reading.
tt

Monday

Are you like me?
Are you torn?

Between ...

wanting to give your attention, and needing some space?

wanting to walk more often, and finding it so much easier to just drive?

despair over your growing waistline, and the comfort found in food?

waves of affection and frustration?

craving physical contact, and needing them off your lap?

wanting to read something weighty, worthy...and picking up short, easy instead?

needing to save money, and coveting so many beautiful things?

needing to sleep, and savoring the peace and quiet of late at night?

wanting to explore new things, and really just wanting to stay home?

trying to understand, and not being able to let go of your own notions?

wanting to connect, and being too distracted by mundane details?

Are you like me? Are you your own worst enemy, sometimes?

Just wondering. Thanks for reading.

tt

Friday Happiness

Thank you to Julie, for reading, for commenting...for making me feel like someone is listening.

To everyone else:
May I direct your attention here, not to toot my own horn, but because if you're not reading this, you're missing out.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.
tt

Refuge

My story does not lend one to believe that I might find myself, alone on Christmas afternoon, in New York City, with time to kill. But here I was, with Christmas morning for six children under my belt, a husband in transit, and two hours or so to make my self scarce.

The story, I suppose, starts many years ago, when two flawed people, imperfectly matched, only slightly out of their teens, married and somehow produced two perfect little girls.

Those two little girls were now at Lenox Hill Hospital, meeting their new little sister.
That's right. Another girl.

No! Not mine. But theirs, none the less. Beautiful and healthy, just like they were. Eliza.

So, while my husband (the second one, the one I married many years and much wisdom later) and our own perfect little girl (my third, his fourth...are you keeping up with this?) delivered his own mother safely to her home in Brooklyn, and while my girls (two of them, at least) were counting baby toes and fingers, and breathing up that new baby smell...

I.went.out.to.lunch.

I'm not sure what sort of planet alignment had to happen for me to be there, on a wooden stool in a French bistro, with ochre walls and beamed ceiling; with a lovely Ukrainian barmaid pouring me Pinot Blanc; with a solicitous Maitre'd summoning up un-asked for samples of the lobster bisque; with no children asking to go to the bathroom.

But there I sat, and tears welled up. Not over some misplaced nostalgia for days gone by. Not even with relief for having survived yet another Christmas as Grand Marshall of so many little humans' expectations. But for the fullness, the richness, the intricacy of all the things that led up to this very afternoon.

And perhaps, for one more perfect little girl, brought into a world,(at least our corner of it), that so loves little girls.

Welcome, Eliza. Your sisters love you.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.
tt

And to all, a good night.

Outside::

Inside::

This is always the best night.

Peace, love and happiness to you all. Thanks for reading.

tt

ps: as always, inspired by SouleMama's in/out.

Countdown

It's hard to be jaded when your mother still puts out the same Christmas decorations you played with as a kid. And then you see your own kids, as awed and reverent around them, as you remember being, yourself.

You can choose what you think is important and live your life accordingly. I stake my soul on it. But some things-your family, your memories-you don't choose. You can't change them like nail polish. They are a part of you, the way skin and height are.

Just saying. Thanks for reading.

tt

Monday morning at-home love

We are back home, from the most beautiful winter wonderland. I would show you pictures-you know I would-but so far, the camera I've checked...not so good. There are some other cameras floating around here, and when I get the chance, I'll check those pictures out...but for now, I'm just trying to get grounded before the troops 'rouse.

I have some random things to say, but I'm worried that lately, all I've been here is random. Maybe it's symptomatic of the season-taking care of so many things at one time, trying to get it all in. Maybe it's a result of my compelling exhaustion, which seems to be taking a toll on everything from my eyes (they are puffy and don't seem to be working as well as usual), to my bones (can't bend or stretch well). Woe is me.

But, I have some totally eclectic thoughts I would like to put down, and-lucky us!-here's where my (proverbial) pen falls.

1) Fall was so spectacular, and we all know about spring and summer, but the pictures I have been seeing around blogland of winter are by far the most beautiful yet. I just spent 48 hours in a snow covered haven, and not any of us...from three to eighty three...could stop remarking on how gorgeous the world looked covered in snow. I find this ability we humans have to find wonder and awe in every season to be something to cling to: that we are all capable of seeing the beauty in every facet of the changing natural world. We should try to turn that eye to our own lives and the ones around us. Maybe we would see what we don't always see in each other. Grace is not always in the obvious.

2) There are people who need us, and believe me, there are plenty right here in my own house. But I went to the senior center last week with my parents (they were there as volunteers, by the way!) and helped serve up a holiday luncheon. I realized that even a little time counts in a big way. I didn't necessarily want to go, I had a few valid excuses to get out of it, but I was so happy I went. Maybe I wasn't so much help, but if everybodys' little bit of help gets added together, you have a really big dose of what is needed.

3) (Here's where random meets random). The girls are going to make those things this morning, that they make every year (thanks, Tricia). You take:

Snyder's pretzel SNAPS (or any shape that isn't too wide-open)

Hershey's HUGS (we've tried others, but the white/milk chocolate combo seems to work here)

Oven @ 200

line them up on parchment lined pans...hug on snap...when a little bit melty, gently push a snap on top. If they're not melty enough, stick them back in the oven for a few seconds. If they're a melted mess, throw them in the freezer (or outside, even!) for a minute or two, and try again.

top with a snap (salt side out) and chill (again, freezer or outside).

They are so.dang.good. And perfect to throw into cellophane bags with a ribbon and give as little gifts. I only hesitate to write this down, as now everyone knows how easy they are to make.

4) We are getting excited about our January show. And we are getting re-energized about the real show, starting in January, down there in DC, and everywhere.

Enough random! Maybe I'll be able to pull a substantive thought together after a long winter's nap (maybe not). Is everyone as tired as I am, these days?

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

tt

Friday Happiness

The sun put in an appearance yesterday afternoon, so I took a few pictures around our house. It's feeling really Christmas-y in here, these days.

We don't have enough space in the livingroom for the tree, but I like this better: we can see it from every room downstairs.

That's a deep fryer basket there, a gift from Stephanie last Christmas. I love the way the perforations give the illusion of a floral pattern. Candlelight spills out through all of those little holes. Come to think of it, the little vintage globe is from Pretty Funny, too.

The girls learned to make these incredible snowflakes in seventh grade math. Is this what they mean by the new math?

The piano, or, my makeshift mantel. Notice no more candycanes out in the dotty jar. I wised up, fast.

Looks like a drunken sailor hung the lights, huh? I like them this way.

We are off this morning to race a snowstorm up to New Paltz, for a few days of (computer-free)bliss: Fun, rest, and foodfoodfood. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Although I will say, I'll miss curling up in our little house during the first real snow of the winter.

I'm sure I'll get another chance, soon enough.

Enjoy your weekend. Thanks for reading.
tt

A few random things...

that I am loving right now:

1. Driving around and seeing how everyone has decorated their houses. So far there is one I am loving most, with paper lanterns like these, and white lights illuminating the wrap-around porch on their Victorian. I'd never think to put the lanterns outside, but it works. (I'll try to take a good picture the next time I'm out after dark.)

2. Getting holiday cards from friends and family whom I don't hear from often, the rest of the year. Especially from those so far away (Slovenia, Denmark...Minnesota).

3. Holiday drinks: eggnog with fresh-grated nutmeg. warm cider with cinnamon sticks. peppermint tea. hot chocolate with whipped cream and a candy-cane stirrer. sparkling cider, so the kids can toast, too. and this big, dark, red wine: almost black, and perfect with all those winter comfort foods we're eating now.

4. The questions that are coming from Anna, as she grows curiouser and curiouser. "What makes the water work?" "Is there something holding the house up?" and, some indiscreet but sensible questions over boy/girl anatomy that I won't go into here.

5. Naptime.

6. Getting ideas, inspiration, and encouragement from reading blogs written by smart, creative people who let us have a glimpse into their very real lives. I've spent a good deal of my adult life leafing through shelter magazines and catalogs which leave me feeling that my house, my clothes, my life, are just not cutting it. It is so fortifying to read about and see how real people make their homes, raise their kids, and cope with the same issues that most of us are faced with on a daily basis. {I don't have a blogroll on the sideboard, for a couple of reasons, but I think I will do a post soon, with links to some that I love and read consistently.}

7. Getting comments on my own blog, from all over the world- Denmark, Scotland, New Zealand. It's so nice to know that someone (anyone?!) is out there, listening. I'd love to hear from you, too.

That's all for now. Thanks for reading.

tt

Monday in New York

For a girl (there I go again) who doesn't get out much, I found myself at the Union Square Greenmarket again today.

I am truly blessed with good friends from (sadly) out-of-town, who seem to enjoy coming up to New York and taking their poor friend Tara out to fabulous lunches, and generally imbuing my existence with a little luxury (and more than a little wine).

We spent some time walking around before we settled in happily at Union Square Cafe. Madison Square Park had an installation of tree huts that you can see here, and read about here, and here.

I found my eye again and again drawn towards the Empire State Building. I grew up coming into the city way more often than I do now, yet I don't remember ever being in or up to the top of the Empire State. I don't know the reason, but we seemed to practically frequent the World Trade Center. Maybe it was the TKTS outpost that was there. Maybe it was a more modern landmark to show off to the stream of overseas visitors who were a constant in my parents' house. Maybe it was easier to park.

In any event, we've been watching a lot of Elf. Judge me if you want, but I still laugh in all sorts of places with this one. In the scene where Bob Newhart shows Buddy the snow globe of NYC, and points to where his "real" father works, Tim remarked that they must have had to go with the Empire State Building, because what else is left? Of course there is the Chrysler Building, we New Yorkers know that, but it has never become the household name that the Empire State is, or, the Twin Towers were.

When I left my dear friends at their hotel and was making my way uptown, I stopped to take one last picture of the building, to show Anna where Mommy had been all day. I anticipated all sorts of questions about whether Elf was there. I was looking forward to sprinkling a little fairy dust about how I went in to the city to give Santa her Christmas list.

What I didn't anticipate was the crowd I was among, arching backward, pointing cameras and phones and blackberrys at a skyscraper, looking to capture one of the great icons of New York, still standing.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

tt

The View

from (around) eyebuzz. Third in a series.

I took the Saturday shift at the gallery, and when I was done, I took a quick, shivery walk around, to see how everyone has dressed up the trees and lampposts and their shops for the holidays. I know that we're all supposed to be depressed about the economy and stressed about the holidays, but Tarrytown looks beautiful, and festive, and...happy.

At dusk the sky was still blue, but the light around the edges of things was deepening. It reminded me of the view you get when you're driving through the city in a cab, and everything on the street sparkles, everything inside the buildings looks glowing and inviting.

My view, today. Thanks for reading.

tt

Friday Happiness

Another Friday, already? This one came up quick.

Another poker night for Tim, tonight, but no movie night for me, this time. It's getting down to the wire, gift-wise, and I've much to do. Although, I could spend the whole night organizing photos on our computer and still not get Thing One done.

Another party this weekend; this time with friends we don't see very often, at a house that will forever feel a little bit like home, so I'm much looking forward to it.

And Sunday; perhaps the last slow, easy, nothing-much-to-do Sunday for a while. So I am, most of all, ready for that.

Another subject:

The other day I referred to myself here as "girl", and that's been flitting around in my brain since. Because we all know how old I am (forty-one). And I'm way closer -seriously- to being a grandmother, than I am to being a teenager, numbers-wise. (We've got three 12-year-olds. At least one is likely to come up with a baby at some point in the next 22 years, right?)

So, I asked myself Satchel Paige's question: "How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were?"

And you know what I came up with?

Twenty-six.

I'm off by fifteen years. Fifteen. But that's my honest answer. Just on the border of "girl", maybe with the hood ornament over the line, even. But there you have it.

And another thing? I was thinking about what I might be wearing to this party this weekend, and I realized that I have in mind something like the perky little ingenue out of Amelie, and will definitely end up with something more in the style of, say...Olive Oyl.

Then again, what do I think I am? Twenty-six?

What's your answer? How old would you be, if you didn't know how old you were?

Enjoy your weekend. More tomorrow.

tt

Kismet

Tim and I both had Peanuts Christmas tree ornaments when we were young. I'm the sort to draw much significance from such a thing.

We grew up very far apart-geographically and culturally-and so small coincidences like that make me wonder. For instance, there's a possibility that we were both in Hawaii in 1978, at the same time, under very different circumstances.

Anyway...

I'm feeling marginally better, but I missed book club last night, and I really hate that. Not only did I love our book this time, and really wanted to hear what all the very smart people in our book club had to say about it, but the meetings are the best. Grown-ups I know and like, talking about all sorts of interesting things, with good food, wine, and I don't even need to get a babysitter.

Instead, we stayed up way too late for a Wednesday, watching just the worst movie. Stupid. Bad. And not just bad, but also disturbing-images of awful things, which the director saw fit to keep flashing back to. No mas.

From now on, I am:

a)not watching movies on Wednesday nights when we should be in bed, or at least, at book club

b)sticking to movies that end with either a wedding or a baby. No torture scenes. No serial killers. No Al Pacino.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go watch the Charlie Brown Christmas special. I think Lucy and Schroeder end up together in this one.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

tt

p.s. If you've read Half of a Yellow Sun, or even if you haven't, this thoughtful blogger also has a online book club which has great discussions of all sorts of compelling reads. You can check it out here.

Reality check

It is hard to be in the spirit of the season when:

It is raining outside. And 60 degrees. Chance of snow? Zip.
You are coming down with something that seems to be taking over your body, starting in your head, and surely moving south.
Those projects that seemed doable by Christmas are just staring back at you, mocking your foolishness. Turns out: yarn will not knit itself.
And all you have going for you right now is tea, toast, and one hour before the kids get out (that's 10:45 am, in case you were wondering.)


Just didn't want anybody to feel badly because that eyeblog girl over there is so dang cheery.

More tomorrow (maybe). Thanks for reading.
tt

A small, deeply disturbed following.

I have to confess that I have never read M.F.K. Fisher. Not a word. I have always meant to, but really, never come close. Don't have a book on my shelf, waiting with the others. Haven't gotten one out from the library and left it untouched until the due date. Nothing.

I don't know why, and I don't know why I think it matters, other than that I love food, I love writing, I love true stories about people and love and life, so this seems like something lacking in my literary experience. Even, lacking in me.

But, I've read every word that Laurie Colwin ever wrote.

If you've read-or even think you've heard of-Laurie Colwin, then we can just frown, nod, and shake our heads in unison. You know what I mean. You and I are among the small, deeply disturbed followers* of a great writer, great food writer, and all around lovely human being, who died way before what anyone would consider her time.

If you've never even heard of her, then please look her up and read one of her books. They are, honestly, all the same to some degree. The same character, wrestling with similarly domestic crises of heart and home. Big, thoughtful heart, and comfortable, but often stilted home.

I say this with all due respect and admiration. Because that is what Laurie Colwin engenders: respect, admiration, loyalty, and deep affection. Both for her characters- flawed as they may be- and herself. She makes you feel that she is writing just for you, giving you kindly but unflinching insights into people you might know, and sometimes, even, yourself.

And her food writing (two volumes of collected essays and pieces written for magazines) elevates to an art form cooking that has perhaps fallen out of fashion in these days of flashy, flash in the pan, celebrity chef vanity books. Food that you and I actually can live with, can cook for our families and our friends, and build a community of love and comfort by sharing-simply-a meal.

Sadly, the lexicon of Laurie Colwin is finite. Some of my favorites: Goodbye Without Leaving. A Big Storm Knocked It Over. Shine On, Bright and Dangerous Object. And, most of all, Family Happiness. I found several at a used book store in Connecticut over Thanksgiving weekend (I once owned all of them but have pressed them onto so many friends over the years that I wound up without any) and bought every one they had there.

So, I'm starting over. I find that I'm such a different person than when I first read them-eighteen years ago!- and so I read them differently. But that somehow, they've grown with me. When I'm done with them this time, I'll need to move on again.

Sounds like a good hint for a Christmas present. Some M.F.K. Fisher would be perfect right about now.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

tt

*Bonus points if you recognize this quote from William Hurt, in The Big Chill.

Everything in its place

The tree is up, the lights are on, the ornaments hung. This year, mutiny. We went with colored lights on the tree, by popular demand. I'm fine with it, actually. It looks pretty.

I'm doing quite well, I think, with the increasing clutter and mess that all of this Christmas-ing brings. Candles and stick stars on the windowsills, wooden Santas jumbling up the tabletops, red and green bowls crowding around the everyday white in our already crowded cabinets. Furniture moved around to make room for the tree. Relatives sleeping on the couch. That sort of thing.

I'm doing quite well, because I'm quite charmed by it all this year. I'm going with it. It feels good to walk in our house, I think.

I'm crazy in the kitchen. Every day seems an excuse for some sort of party, some sort of treat to be baked or comforting dish conjured up. Armed with chocolate chips, homemade bread and good cheeses, I feel I can rise to any occasion.

what we're eating these days:

grilled marinated pork loins (yes, that was Tim outside last night, grilling in his down coat), with roasted potatoes and cherry tomatoes.

frikadeller (danish-style pork and beef meatballs) over wide egg noodles.

pumpkin cookies, over and over and over again. With chocolate chips, because I can't help myself, but sliced almonds are exceptionally good, too. Plus the kids don't eat as many, then.

and speaking of almonds, an idea stolen from the samples at Whole Foods: any gooey, rinded cheese (I used an Italian cheese made with sheep and cow's milk called robbiola), "marinated" with honey and sprinkled with sliced almonds. It will knock your socks off; it looks beautiful, has a wonderful mixture of textures and tastes, and will seem like you've done something elaborate and creative without, really, doing much.

and, always, homemade pizza. Tim's pizza, as it's known around here (and elsewhere, I'm proud to say). Right now, with slivered red peppers.

Some of us are also eating more than their share of candy canes. And organic or not, a word to the wise: if you put candy canes out in a pretty little jar on December 2nd, you will have a three-year-old junkie with a wicked sugar jones by December 3rd. Just saying.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

tt

Friday Happiness

This weekend I'm looking forward to:

getting our tree...not that we need a large living object looming in the corner of our dining room. But it will be beautiful, and I love the ritual of decorating it, as much as having it there for the next few weeks.

finding a few perfect presents, and crossing some more names off my list. I'm trying to avoid the panic that results in buying the overpriced last minute gift.

taking a long walk in the Preserve. It's been a couple of weekends now since our last one, for various reasons, and I find I need it: both the connection to nature, and the connection we make with each other when we are out there with nothing to distract but the trees and the path.

Uncle Nick will be here!

sleeping in as much as motherly possible.

starting one new knitting project and finishing one long standing one.

snow.

On another note:

I've mentioned our January show a few times now, and am excited to let you know more about it. We're set to put on what seems inevitably called The Obama Show, a group exhibit of work inspired in some way by the hope and promise of our new President.
We plan to open the show on January 20th, and look forward to celebrating the inauguration with a reception in the gallery.

I'm thrilled that Jennifer Judd-Mcgee, the talented artist from Portland whose name you may recognize from all of those Swallowfield references here, will be a part of our show. We've admired her work for a while now, and are honored to have her involved with our gallery.

More about this in the upcoming weeks.

Enjoy your weekend, too! Thanks for reading.
tt

A few random notes on consuming locally

If you are, as I am, looking for some anti-mall ideas for gifts, here are a few local things which fit the bill, beautifully.

-Stephanie is having her Holiday Sale today through Sunday, with a whole new room full of goodness open, and lots of vintage gifts and decorations.

I love a certain shape and style of old ornaments and have a few left from my grandmother's day, and a few I have bought here and there. I usually nail a sturdy piece of yarn or twine across a doorway and hang them with ribbon to make a (very breakable) garland. I'm mentioning this, not only because it's a really pretty thing to do, but because I read this and it made me laugh, since my house is exactly the last place that should have a string of vintage ornaments hung up.

-Stone Barns has a few holiday events this weekend, including a local vendor boutique and, in the Farm Store, a book signing by my friend Barbara Scott-Goodman for her new cookbook from 12 -3.

-Local textile artist Jackie Frankstone and her husband, Kent, have a new online store selling (for now) her extraordinary scarves. Other lines will be added in the new year.

On a side note: I went into Lollipop today to buy some treats for my in-house Secret Santa gifts (we all pick a name, and then spend the next few weeks pretending we don't know who has whom). The owner is very friendly, and when I mentioned that I was glad his business was doing so well, but that he's also the bane of my existence (nice, huh?), he actually recognized me from seeing our girls in there so much (one of them resembles me, um, a bit.) Is this good news? I think not.

That's all I've got for now. I'm sure I'll be back soon, boring you with pictures of my vintage ornament garland, and perhaps, a posting about our dental bills.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.
tt

Time flies when you're having kids

We made a party yesterday, for one of our little ones. We have an eleven-year-old now. She didn't used to be eleven, but now she is.

We've had eleven-year-olds before. She has three older sisters; they're twelve, and two of them are going to be thirteen before we know it.

But she was always one of the "little ones".

It's not that we need a reminder, really. But it goes very quickly.

Wasn't she just in the threes class? No, that's her sister in the threes class, right now.
Wasn't that one just born? Nope. She's going to be four.

Wasn't I just...twenty? Nice try. Not even close.

You get the gist.

It makes me want to pay attention to every little thing. Savor it.
And, more pragmatically, weather it, as I know this.too.shall.pass.

I often think about how things we're doing now will be viewed when they are no longer ours, but theirs:
Their childhood stories.
The tales they tell their roommates freshman year.
The things they talk about with their first "real" boyfriend.
The times they tease us about when we're old and we're all together for the holidays.
The things they keep going, live up to, get over. The things they don't.

Whew!

Now that I think about it, eleven's not that old.

Forty one? That's another story.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.
tt

And now, a word from our sponsor...

It's always exciting to have that brown UPS truck stop at our house, but never more so than when it's delivering the new show. And today!: the originals, and the postcards, all at once.

The new exhibit: Bruce Habowski- Quiet Interiors

It starts Thursday, but unfortunately (and understandably), Bruce and Mary can not make it down from Maine this time for an opening reception. We are considering our options, for maybe just a plain old party in the gallery, with out the benefit of artist-in-first-person.

But maybe not. I am a big proponent of "do one less thing". Do you do this, too? Sometimes, when your weeks, or weekends, or days, are just too full, too chaotic, too trying to be more than one place at a time...just do one less thing.

There must be one thing that could go. That maybe, you could say no to. Or be honest with somebody and say "I.just.can't." It's not easy, because there are the things you want to do and the things you feel you must do, and the things that fit both criteria...and the decision between them is never as clear cut as we might wish.

Of course, if Bruce were coming down, it would be a no-brainer. And a lot of fun, to boot.

But frankly, his work speaks for itself. And this show is really good. Poignant. Personal. Each piece tells just a page of a story you want to read more of.

Then again, maybe we'll have a party.

I'll let you know.

Until then...say it with me. One.less.thing.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.
tt

Monday morning love

A few things I am loving right now:

lots and lots of little white lights, all over the house.

that bread recipe I told you about. If you have not tried it because it seems like so much work, or too much planning, try it. It takes less than five minutes at a time, a couple of steps, and you will love the smell, love the bread, and love that you made it yourself.

the likes of Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, and Sammy Davis Jr. singing holiday songs. Hokey, I know. But if you don't sing along to Baby, It's Cold Outside, there's no hope for you. Sorry.

extracting all of our Christmas decorations from the attic, and watching the girls be so excited to see them again. Being just as happy to see them, myself.

the sprinkling of snow we're getting now and then, like a teaser, before the real thing.

having a calendar full of parties and houseguests and friends visiting to look forward to.

President Elect Obama.

I may sound a little giddy. I think it's all the little white lights.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

tt