Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Packing Up

The very real reality that we are moving in a matter of days has finally set in. Our apartment needs sorting and packing; some type of cleanse even, ridding us of the random junk we've acquired over the three years (give or take) we've lived here. I'm kicking it into high gear, abandoning my sit and be frame of mind, anxious about getting into our new home. I'm not overwhelmed, though. I've got this little girl on my side. She's great at packing boxes.
We make a great team, this girl and me. She pulls down items from shelves, and hands them to me. I compliment on how wonderful of helper she is and she responds, "You're elcome." Sweet girl.
This little love nest has been kind to us, the place we've called home. Comfortable, convenient, and cozy; just right in a Goldie Locks kinda way. As we box up the last three years of our lives, stumbling upon memories, I realize how far we've come. I'll miss this little place.

Friday, September 16, 2011


With August gone, I'm beginning to feel a little more comfortable, a little more at home. I anxiously await the vibrant palette that will eventually consume Midtown's canopy of leaves. These moments are drawing closer. Steadily inching their way near with cooling temperatures. Trees are proud enough to be the bearers of the first yellow leaves. The early morning hours have returned to their dark, desolate, and unoccupied state. I feel at peace around this time of year. Content, still very much indulging in my sit and be frame of mind. I'm enjoying my surroundings, keeping a close watch on nature, hoping to take a mental picture of the seasonal transition.
I love this small window of calendar weeks. The ones where Summer and Autumn go head to head in a tug-of-war, fighting long and hard over the weeks shadowing Summer's end. This fight to the finish allows me to have my cake and eat it too. Although I'm high on the fact that the Autumn months are quickly approaching, I'm not about to lie and tell you that I've forgotten altogether about the the small joys of Summer.

 My addiction to heirloom tomatoes has been deep and passionate. Whether it be in the level of sophistication that comes with a Caprese salad (the way tomato, basil, and mozzarella play equally important roles), or the fancy shmancy open-faced breakfast sandwich (the combination of tomato, squash, and an over-medium egg atop buttery, toasted sourdough bread), it's fair to say that I'll be enjoying these bad boys until they disappear from the stands at our local farmer's markets, their existence becoming nothing but a memory.
And though I'm holding tight to the taste of Summer, I'll be open about dipping early into the Fall flavor profile. Pumpkin Spice is back. I can once again let my Fall-freak-flag wave proudly.
This upcoming season has a lot in store for us. With our big move rapidly approaching and a to-do list left untouched, I decided to skip out on all the responsibilities leading up to the big day, the sorting, tossing, and packing, and spend a day with this girl.
The day was spent well. Spent in interaction. In exploration. In stepping back and discovering who this little girl is becoming. She's an interesting little thing, my bright girl. She's got a big sense of humor, spitting out remarks with ease almost as if she's used these lines for years. She's a go-getter, and has a funny way of being demanding when she gets really excited. Today she demanded a baby whale.
 And that's what she got...
I watched and noticed how much she's grown, the way her legs have stretched, how expressive she can be, and how long her hair has become, still holding onto those sweet curls I love so much.
I've been thinking a lot about our move, how I envision our life will change. I can't help but believe that the Utopian Summer we've experienced will continue on through the months to come. There's something exciting about a new home. A new feeling, new expectations. A chance to recreate and start over.

I've been dreaming much of the sounds of her little footsteps racing down halls and into bedrooms, her excitement and curiosity when we turn the soil, planting the bulbs and seeds we'll eventually enjoy, the way she'll pick plump cherry tomatoes right from the vine. We'll do breakfast on the patio. I'll sip long and slow from my big mug, watching her as she plays on the moist lawn in her jammies and rain boots. 

Autumn has a lot in store for us.