Through to Sunrise

I can type without looking at the keys, which means that right now, as I type,I'm actually looking out the window. I'm in a forward facing seat on the Commuter Rail to Providence, and the sun is coming up. It's bright. When we hit a treeless piece of track, I turn to face it for as long as I can stand. Maybe it's the time I spent in Seattle, but in the winter it seems like I can feel something good coming into my eyes when I look at the sun.

I didn't sleep much last night,but I feel very awake.
I travel this way pretty often, but it's so rare that I watch the miles go by.

Last night when Z got home from soccer he told me he ran into two cyclists who asked directions to Inman square. Because telling directions on the bike path is pretty tricky (There are few signs, and the path is interrupted a few times by streets)he suggested they take the train. "We rode from Providence!" they said "and by now its a point of pride. We're riding all the way." Z couldn't argue with that, as he recently fit a huge box of DISHES on his bike and pedaled a few miles for the same reason. He gave the travelers simple directions on main streets.

Needless to say we were both impressed. We'd looked at the possibility of that ride before, and it's really long. As I look at all these miles passing by, I'm a little surprised. When I really consider it, I realize that I think of Boston and Providence as separated by time, but not really by distance. I often say "here" in a way that encompasses Boston, Providence, South County with no difference. Sitting on the train, reading, writing, snoozing or hanging out with Z is just part of the penance I have to pay, but I don't consider the miles, just the minutes.

The exception to this is occasionally when I have to explore the stops between my two destinations. Occasionally if there's some rush and someone could meet me in a car, I'll look at the map and figure out where exactly a place like Mansfield or Sharon is. One time, I thought I had cash and jumped aboard the train planning to pay en route. (If I'm honest, I'll tell you, I thought I could pay with a card on the train. If the waitstaff at WagaMama can have handheld credit card machines, why can't the MBTA? Boy did the conductor think I was an idiot for thinking that! Another holdover of my Seattle personality.)

Anyway, she turned me out at the next available stop... Route 128! I felt stranded in an unknown wilderness. I called my pal Mrs. Gray, and asked her to pick me up because it would be hours before I could catch another train and we'd planned to spend the day together. I could give her no directions, so she followed her GPS to get there. I walked, blinking and bewildered out of the station, found a busy enough intersection with a parking lot where I could wait and told her where I was.

I feel a little like that now, seeing the quaint steeples, gritty mills, tract housing, lines of oak trees going by; confronted with the reality of the distance. When we were 19 my friend Julie and I took a train to Oakland, CA from Providence. We met hundreds of people on the way. This morning, looking out the window at the pink sky and the golden light on the trees over the hunched leather jacket of my seatmate, I remembered an agreement we made early on in the trip. We had perhaps stayed up late with a new friend who had taught us to play Euchre in the club car, or maybe had just been awakened by a stop at daybreak, but we sat in our seats and watched the sunrise over... upstate New York perhaps? It was so beautiful, and we were starting to understand what we had in store for the next week. We agreed like 8 year old blood brothers that anytime there was something incredible like a sunset or a sunrise, we each had the permission to awaken the other. Sleep was nothing compared to seeing the entire country out the window of the Amtrack train.

I feel a little like that now in a lot of ways. Now I'll try to get to know the scenery on this train ride the way I know my walk to the library or my bike ride to work. Our return to New England has felt so much like a glimpse into all the meanings a place can hold for us.

Of course, days later, after spending the night chatting with some other young people in the viewing and smoking cars, I returned to my seat during the most beautiful sunrise over Minnesota. I hesitated and then awakened Julie. She peeked out the window and said "Yeah. Thanks Kendra. Maybe we won't do that anymore. I'll see you tomorrow."

Springtime Flux

I've always gotten Spring Fever.

Every year.  It's a little embarrassing. For me this manifests as nervous energy, forgetfullness, preoccupation with pretty things, falling in love with every other person who walks down the street or sits next to me in the cafe, rushing more, napping more and eating ice cream. We're nearly through it this year, and it has passed quickly, perhaps because of how satisfying this spring has been.  I know it's boring to talk about the weather, but really it has affected this whole relocation so much and so postively that I can't stop talking about it yet.

I loved seeing flowers pop out of the snow, people poking out of their heavy overcoats, leaving a scarf or mittens home one day or the next, challenging winter as it faded away.  Spring seemed so brave and hopeful.  Last week we had a legitimately hot day, and it showed us what summer will be.  In Seattle somehow, the weather seemed more distant, unassailable, and here, it feels as though the bravery of a few hatless souls may have been responsible for the whole damn thing.  In Seattle the trees would suddenly be abloom, but here there was a nice, long, smooth budding phase that allowed us to prepare our hearts and our bodies for spring.

At work, it's a whole other type of adjustment. Now instead of the parade of snowsuits, hats, scarves and mittens, it's the process of sunhats, sandal straps, water bottles and sunscreen.  The kids are happy to just sit in the grass and stare, to swing, swing, swing to hold hands and run one way and then another.  They have each mastered something brand new on the playground in the last week; the rings, pumping on a swing, flying on their bellies on the swing, climbing to the top of a tall, tall ladder, sliding down on their bellies.  Like little spring animals learning how to walk, to run, to fly or hunt.

At home I'm trying to keep some of this energy with me as I ride my bike back.  I'm still having a hard time with so many hours of my life given away to my job and commute, but the bike is faster than the train, now, and getting faster every day.  I'm still practicing my unicycle every week or so, it's still difficult to go more than five feet or so.  Maybe I'll practice again today as I clean the house before houseguests arrive.  I finally found a yoga studio that I'm crazy about which is a few less free hours in my week, but more than worth it.  It's also local soccer season, so Z and I have attended one Revolution game, and one Boston breakers game.  We'll return to ther fort this weekend with friends this time to see another Rev's game.

This is one of the most boring posts I've ever written, but, it's what I'm thinking about.

Next time, I'll have something hilarious, thoughtful and shocking for you.

More Spring signs

Disclaimer: While I understand that it could snow in Boston on any day in March or April, I'm celebrating moments of spring-like weather and attitudes as they occur. This may irritate bores, literalists or fuddy-duddies. For instance when Z wore shorts the other day and smiled at a passerbye, she offered (in a grouchy voice) "Don't put away your boots yet!"

Today it reached 50 degrees and I spent a couple of hours walking around in it. I underdressed (Seattle tradition) to get as much sunlight on my skin as possible. It was fantastic to smile at my neighbors as they did errands, strolled around the pond, and generally blossomed. Here are some signs of spring to add to my list....

Pictured:
The hat shop is totally ready to move forward.

Honey Bees! (You may have to look really closely... the Iphone has no zoom.) These bees were buzzing around so merrily in and out of this tree that it made me think of Winnie the Pooh. In that hole, I could see the honeycomb and the entrance to the hive.)

Not pictured: frisky ducks and Canada geese, children drunk with sunshine. My three new springy t-shirts from Boomerang's.

Signs of spring

It's still winter here in Massachusetts, I know. Please don't think I'm fooled by a little sun and weather warm enough for me to leave my gloves and mittens at home, because I'm not.
On the other hand, it's really gorgeous, and my body does not understand that there are still weeks of wintry weather and more snow ahead. My body wants to eat ice cream and fire up the grill and go to the beach and climb trees and things like that... even though I know better.

So here is a list (with some illustrative photos) of signs of spring:
1. The outdoor busking has begun again at Harvard Square (note bagpiper setting down a cup of coffee)
2. Crocuses are blooming, along with snow drops AND there are chirpy little robins bopping around as though they would also like to eat ice cream, and cook out.
3. My cat is lying around in puddles of sunshine on the floor.
4. (Not pictured) I was almost hit by a baseball that was thrown by a child in a Red Sox jersey and just missed the mitt of a young man in a Red Sox jersey.

I'll keep an eye out and post more signs as they show themselves. What are the signs of spring where you live?

Zak calls it the Accident Room.

I call it the Emergency room, and at Group Health, where I went for Medical care in Seattle, they called it Urgent Care.

Tonight I called my new doctor here in Boston. Her office closed at 5pm, so I get the choices of Urgent care or Medical advice. At Group Health, the Medical advice nurses could do triage and then make an appointment for you the next day because they keep their appointments in a database. At my new doctor, the woman on the phone couldn't make me an appointment, or tell me if any will be available because "They closed the book at 5." She said that tomorrow I could go to Urgent care. I told her my concern. Turns out, at this new hospital, "Urgent Care" means which ever doctor doesn't have an appointment will come and see you instead of your doctor OR the emergency room, or accident room, or whatever. It also turns out that they write appointments in a book instead of entering them into a spreadsheet which is really wierd. That only took a couple of minutes, but it sure was confusing.

Good Housekeeping

Today I finally continued the unpacking project known as the early part of November. I abandoned this project to celebrate some holidays and spend time with people and work at a newish job, and generally live in a day to day way. The entire time, though, Z and I were aware that certain parts of our lives were missing. Z had done a tremendous job designing systems to make our lives work beautifully, but many of the beautiful objects from our old home (photos, paintings, prints and rocks, mostly) hadn't made it onto the walls.

I've been knitting out of a box of needles and yarn... a huge cardboard box of yarn and needles all tangled up. That's still a mess, I'm afraid. But the plants were repotted. Important, fragile bits of decoration (like the well-wrapped Woodsie, here) were unpacked, and certain elements of our kitchen finalized. (Not that final Z, you still have a veto, here.) Here's a couple of snapshots of progress. I DO wish that I'd taken some before shots.

The pretty cabinet full of gorgeous dishes was similar before, only that bottom shelf had a been a "very important paper/object and coin depository since day one", so it was strewn with a laptop, and papers and an old burbon bottle full of change.

The pantry had housed a bunch of dishes and some food, but the food had lived over in the (very sunny) kitchen, so, that had to change.

There's two things in the bottom photo. One, I brought home this oak ivy as a house warming gift to Z, but it's been floating, homeless around the apartment ever since our first week here. We each wanted to suspend it in this (windowless) transom over the kitchen door, but couldn't find a way to get it there. You can see she's happy in her new home AND that the coffee/tea station has finally come to fruition. We thought it would be awesome to have all coffee/tea and associated aparatus in one part of the kitchen altogether, uncomplicated by other clutter, to preserve the sanctity of the first moments of morning. It's finally all together, there in the lower corner of the photo.

The last weeks have been filled with a terrible cold for both Z and me (he NEVER gets sick) and hurried, belated birthday knitting (sorry Pop). With any luck, the next photos on this blog will be my dad in his enormous scarf. (The weather has been cooperating with this project, and I have no doubt that it will still be cold enough when he gets it.)

It's time....

When Z and I first decided to move to Seattle, we told everyone... it'll be two or three years. This month, it's been 7 years since we climbed out of that U-haul, and we've decided that we're ready to pack it back up again.

There are so many reasons why we're moving, and why now, but the biggest reason is that we both feel the need to be closer to our family. I am so excited... AND everytime we tell folks out here, I feel like I'm breaking up with them.

We've got plenty of time... Z and I love love love summer in Seattle, so we won't be leaving until August. It's exciting and wonderful, and we're enjoying imagining what will come next.

The Red Sox Won Last Night

and despite not caring a whit about baseball I'm completely thrilled.

Last night I went with some friends who actually own Red Sox shirts and hats (because of where I'm from, I have a default love for the Red Sox, but no actual interest in the American pastime) to watch the Red Sox beat the Mariners in a very dramatic game.

There was a heightened amount of "Security" going on at this game that really threw me. I watched someone's sharpie get confiscated (even though the 3 or 4 in my purse were ignored... it was enough to make me want to develop a tag while I was in the ladies room "Paste" or "Play-Doh" or something....) and then my pal got BOOTED for putting booze in his soda, (he was a kind of a folk hero to all the people in our section after a while) and the "Alcohol enforcement" people came back and officously carded two (very beautiful and youthful) women in their FORTIES which was pretty comical for all of us watching. When I worked in shelters, part of my job was a bouner-type roll, making sure folks weren't shooting up in the bathroom, or drinking beer out of a gatorade bottle, or selling drugs. I learned a lot about how to follow rules that are unpopular, but keep people safe, and the "Profit Enforcement" people brought out a sort of adolescent indignance and obstinance in me that folks who do that work should really try to avoid.

I haven't been to Safeco for 6 years, when I watched the Mariners beat the Red Sox. At that time, my pal Al almost got his ass kicked for wearing Sox gear to the game and we were the ONLY people in earshot chearing for the Sox. This time, though, you could see the bold red and blue contrasting with the kind of sissy pastel teal and purple throughout the stadium, and there was a large contingent of Sox fans in our nosebleed section. There was one dude wearing a newish Sox jersey who kept forgetting and cheering when the Mariners would score. After numerous reminders the poor bastard just stopped cheering altogether and let his ladyfriend in a tasteful white Mariners hat do all the work.

These were not all "since the world series" fans either... you could hear in the way people cheered "Sawks" that they were hahd-co-ah fans from back east. I adore being in a crowd. (Z hates them, and often feels anxious and exhausted at events like that one, but the buoyancy of the rest of us was enough to protect him from the throng.) Being in a crowd full of people all doing the same things together is so energizing to me, and to see have fans for both teams screaming their heads off, because, who knows you're clapping and jumping MIGHT make the difference.... what a rush. Anothter rush was paying $40 for a burger, fries and a beer. Wow, ouch. And then the sox one at the very last minute. It was freakin' awesome.