shawl for julie n.

JaggerSpun Zephyr wool/silk in vanilla, size 3 needles, size 6 clear foil-lined bead, posted to Etsy.

at the United Nations, 1.29.11

in the gloaming

digging out

and comes the snow

Fuschia bike, five months later.

cake is good

There's no doubt about it.

seaglass shawl

Now available on Etsy.

things that make me happy

Waking up at 12:25am to a text message from my brother saying he's on the plane at PDX and his flight is taking off on time after all.

Waking up at 5:21am to a text message from my brother saying he's landed at JFK. And it's snowing. A lot.

Hearing the downstairs bell ring at 7:30am and then opening the door to find my brother standing in the hallway, tall and tousle-headed and cold, saying, "Do you think I can borrow a scarf? It's colder than I thought."

Having a closet full of scarves.

Leaving for work in bright yellow sunshine under bright blue skies, bright white snow swirling and whirling up in clouds from awnings, trees, the bus, the ground.

Looking forward to drinks at the Rubin after work tonight with dear friends. And my brother. And my boy.

Today is a good, good day.

cat in a box

Llama-monster wants to go back to the CSA

the Harry Potter Grows Up Scarf

Now available on Etsy

local dive

There's no denying that 1020 is a pretty shabby joint.  Sticky floors (and often enough tables).  Occasionally skunked taps.  No such frivolities as bowls of peanuts or pretzels or popcorn lined up on the bar or particularly clean bathrooms (though I have only seen a roach there once, years ago).  It gets ridiculously crowded with largely obnoxious college kids on weekends and sometimes weeknights. In other words, it's got a lot not going for it.

But there's something about the place that I adore, especially on days like yesterday.  I arrived a few minutes before Nick, bellied up to the bar, ordered a $3 Goose Island IPA, grabbed a booth, pulled out my book, and found myself looking around through rain-speckled glasses, inexplicably grinning.

At the warmth after the wind- & rain-driven walk down from 117th Street.  At the blue and green twinkle lights cheerily brightening up the front window as full dark settled in outside.  At the white twinkle lights festooned from ceiling to walls, right angles softened by their glow reflected off the wood that makes up much of the place.  At the cost of my beer and the smile of greeting the bartender tossed my way along with his amicable "What can I get you, honey?"

I've been hearing this phrase from this man every few months or so for, believe it or not, going on sixteen years now.  We haven't exchanged much more than pleasantries and yet his quiet kindness always makes me happy.

And that's the thing about 1020.  It's dirty and it's gritty and it's cheap and at the wrong times it's full of raucous obnoxious college kids.  But at the right times (five o'clock happy hours, quiet Sunday evenings), it's that homey warm kind of place that makes pretty much the perfect local dive.

weather (and product placement) and how to deal

It's that oh so special kind of weather.  The kind that slushes and seeps and drags at your feet and coats your glasses in pelting icy sleet.  The kind that tangles in your hair and catches in your eyelashes and turns what is normally solid ground treacherous beneath your feet.  The kind that hurts.

It's the kind of weather that really is only endurable curled up on the couch under an afghan, mug of hot chocolate (preferably Abuelita) close to hand, furry fluffy little black cat curled up at your feet.  Purring, of course.

The bus dropped me off into an ankle-deep puddle of sludge.

Luckily my new Dansko boots (thank you Shanna, best sister-in-law that ever was!) withstood the onslaught, the slushocalypse if you will, and my feet remain toasty warm in my SmartWool socks and thick black tights.

Then I arrived at work to find a veritable waterfall (all that melting pelting soul-numbing slush has to go somewhere after all, doesn't it?) pouring down through the light fixtures just outside the entrance to the library.

And so begins the first day of the new semester here at good old CU.  Luckily for me I've already got post-work drinks lined up.  They will be much needed, I'm sure.

free fun in the big city

saturday morning laundry