I’ve been posting about a lot of heavy books lately, because they are good and important. This post is a quick little pop-up advertisement for two books that are just for fun.
This past weekend, I did the same 2.6 mile hike three times in two days, with three sets of people. I hiked the same loop in the same direction, and each time it was like a new trail.
The first time, I walked with a friend who I’ve hiked with regularly throughout the pandemic.The reason I kept going back was because that first hike was magical. The only other people on the trail seemed to be serious birders with big binoculars.
We stopped to speak with one couple. They told us the preserve where we hiked was in the midst of a two week migration period, when tiny birds flying north from the Caribbean rest on their way to their nesting grounds.
Since we can’t travel to the Caribbean right now, it seemed like the next best thing was to go see birds who have just spent the winter there.
Back at the beginning of April, I was starting to feel hopeful about sewing again and I mentioned that I had a couple of patterns I wanted to make.
At that point, I hadn’t started sewing yet. The three items I was planning to make were an Elizabethan Sea Dogs jerkin, a pair of Luna pants, and a Remy raglan. The original plan was a sort of monochromatic history bounding look that would mix and match with the rest of my wardrobe.
I did make three items. It didn’t go exactly how I planned, but I’m happy with the results. I’m not sure if I’m capable of making three black items in a row per the original plan, but I set a record for making three neutral items in a row, so that’s something.
I have started this post three times now, and nothing feels quite right. You see, I really can’t stand Mother’s Day, and I just had the best one ever.
If that is upsetting, feel free to stop reading here. This has been a hard year. However, if you are satisfied with your Mother’s Day celebrations and your relationship to the day itself, or if you deal with negative feelings towards the “holiday” and could use some hope, read on.
My night shift coworkers had a conversation on Friday about perfectionism and the lack thereof amongst the staff at our in-hospital coffee shop. A coworker had returned to the floor with a group order that included an iced coffee clearly marked “hot” on the outside, which is the temperature at which it was desired.
