In reverse chronological order, some homes of the past five months. Except for the month when I was walking from home to home every day. Hopefully those fotos’ll come through soon!
Ya Estoy En Casa
Domesticated Lady
Marvels, Continued
WordPress is being wack about picture formatting, so here’s a separate post for non-inaugural marvels encountered since California. (For those who check my facebook, sorry for the repetition!)
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Junot’s Tribute
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Split Pea Soup
Basic recipe via vegetarian superstar Heidi Swanson. Normally I like to use a little cumin and cayenne, but this time I was out of the former so I threw in a couple of bouillon cubes. Rapunzel stock makes everything tastier, I swear.
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Erin Present
So here’s the story. One day, in college, Erin and I were talking after a WGS class when she looked at my bare collarbone and said, “You need a necklace.” She then took off her own necklace and gave it to me. Wait, it gets better. She MADE this necklace, metalsmithing. Not only did she make it, but it’s actually the ‘negative’ of a beautiful ring that she cut and welded as a gift for someone. Erin present, very important. Now you know the story.
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Happy Soul Night
For a going-away present (even though I’m the one leaving…fuck it — I’ll take any excuse to give a dorky gift), I’m making a friend of mine a mixtape. He always kids me about my cheerfulness, asks me what’s my secret, so the theme of the mix is “happiness.”
- Ain’t No Sunshine ——————————- Bill Withers
- Everybody’s Free (To Feel Good) ————- Quindon Tarver
- Be (Intro) —————————————- Common
- The Happy Song (Dum Dum) —————– Otis Redding
- Joyful, Joyful ———————————— The St. Francis Choir
- Uptight (Everything’s Alright) —————- Stevie Wonder
- Joy ———————————————— Talib Kweli
- Much More ————————————– De La Soul
- Walkin’ My Baby Back Home —————– Nat King Cole
- Nothing Even Matters ————————– Lauryn Hill
- The Sweetest Gift ——————————– Sade
- Alfie ———————————————– Dionne Warwick
- Oh Happy Day ———————————- The St. Francis Choir
- Ain’t Got No — I Got Life ———————- Nina Simone
Music. Not just for emo’s anymore! Speaking of which (music; wresting it from hipsters), a couple friends and I are heading out to “Soul-le-lu-jah,” soul music night at a tiny dance club in my neighborhood. Best night of the week. We’re all drenched with sweat by the end.
Happy weekend, y’all! See you soon.
Dog Days
Recently, my family got a rescue dog. Boomer. I never grew up with dogs (only cats, a guinea pig, and the occasional ill-fated fish or hermit crab), and I am very unskilled at relating to them. Supervising is not my strong suit. No siblings, never a camp counselor or teacher, no desire to parent in any way. Ever nonplussed about how to speak to dogs or children, a fallback baby voice usually emerges and I make myself cringe.
But Boomer and I, we can hang. Which is largely because he is an impeccable animal. In the entire two weeks with my parents, I’ve never once heard him bark.
He is friendly and buoyant, yet obedient and polite: he sits on command, he picks up his leash, he does not sniff crotches. Big enough to roughhouse, but incredibly gentle, even with our two cats.
So when I brought him along to my favorite Sacramento coffeehouse one morning, he was a perfect angel, while I was the one who felt the need to behave.
How does one enact the role of dog owner, exactly?
Do you tie him up outside, or bring him in?
If you bring him in and he lies nicely at your feet while you work, what happens when you have to use the bathroom?
It was interesting to feel so self-conscious, even about something as simple as how to hold a leash. (Confidently but casually.)
Along with the self-consciousness came a sort of Goffmanian sense of performativity. Here was a whole new gender front to try: middle-class feminine girl with docile lab.
Different.
Strange.
But fun.
Rules of Houseguesting
Dedicated to Chelsea and Patches.
Rule #1: Don’t hide your delight when your host offers you a morning brew using his homemade bike-art teapot warmer, fashioned out of gear chains, a hub thingy, and rubber tubes, with room for a little tealight candle in the center. Yes, it is as beautiful and amazing as it appears.
Rule #2: When no one expects it, do some spontaneous dishes. A houseguest pulled this on me one time and it’s become a favorite ritual of mine ever since. It (1) allows you to contribute to the home, (2) occupies your hands without interrupting a conversation, (3) lets you get cozy with the kitchen, and (4) guides the overall vibe toward generosity and warmth. This is a particularly useful rule for households of people under the age of 25, in which case there will always be dishes in the sink, and your hosts will be extra floored that you are willing to touch their dirty shit.
Rule #3: Abet adventure. When your hosts suggest setting out to find some branches for decorating their walls, make no attempt to disguise your goofy enthusiasm. Express your excitement for all manner of romps, forays, jaunts, and missions.
Rule #4: Pick thoughtful, fun-loving, generous, and all-around brilliant hosts. And you’re golden.
Beauty In The ‘Burbs
My friend Jeremiah recently reminded me of something important. It’s very easy, he said, to be cynical about the places we come from. It often takes real effort to view our home environments with appreciation.
This week I’m back in the suburbs of Sacramento, California, where I was raised. For a variety of environmental, social, and economic reasons, I’m not a fan of suburbs in general. But as Jem pointed out, no matter how ignominious our origins, they almost always include something of value. So this morning, while making breakfast and walking the dog, I took my camera along. Insta- fresh perspective.
Writing Letters
This summer, inspired by a couple of friends, and in the spirit of making things with my own hands, I started writing letters. When was the last time you wrote one of those? I hadn’t done it for as long as I could remember — maybe since summer camp — but the process immediately clicked with me. An expression of love, a mode of communication, artistic playtime, and an excuse to buy stamps. There’s a sense of accomplishment, intrigue and nostalgia when you slip an envelope into the mailbox.
From the beginning I was very ambitious. I had read somewhere that Einstein wrote an average of one letter per day. I aimed to write one per week. I wanted to decorate them with stamps and stickers, illustrate them with pencil drawings — the whole works. I dutifully studied the advice (sage and often uproarious, if a bit anachronistic) of Lewis Carroll, who, for instance, offers guidance on how to begin a letter:
Holiday Cards
In keeping with my 2008 snail mail kick, this is the first year I’ve sent out holiday cards. Nothing fancy: no photos, no witty recap of the year, basically just another chance to connect with people I care about but only rarely get to see. Aunts and uncles, former teachers, my sole remaining friend from the golfing years — who texted me last night to say the card brought him to tears. Even though the snowy season doesn’t particularly jazz me up, it’s a good time to sit indoors with a cup of tea and write to people I love.
More on the art of written correspondence next week. Til then, have a wonderful weekend, and if you’re here in the Northeast, take care in the blizzards!
Windowshells
Early post! I’ve always had a thing for cold, rainy beaches. With the collection of seashells on my bedroom window, I can look out on gray days and pretend.
Nesting: 61 Bishop Allen Drive, 02139
We love our home.
Kloncke 