Christmas Morning

Yes, it's beautiful. It's a home-made cinnamon roll, my family tradition for Christmas morning. Made even better by the kind forethought of my mother, who sent me home with a mound of dough all ready to roll out and slather in butter. Somehow it was my husband's first taste of this delicious treat, and he was an instant convert.

Blogtalk 2012!

I sit at my husband's coffee shop as I write this, a delightful peppermint mocha enjoyed and long gone. I am pondering the beginning of the year and the resumption of this blog. A woman with a face like one of Rossetti's models just walked in with four well-behaved children. I transferred the last of our utilities to our new address today, and picked up the mail--so it truly does feel as if we have moved in!!!!!


I want to thank each of you for your kind comments in the past few weeks, also for following my blog and sharing yourselves with me through the wonderful medium of the internet. I look forward to getting to know you better in the coming months.

As for this blog, I will continue to post random musings on many topics, including various aspects of literature, lifestyle, mindful living, food, and music. It won't be long now until my husband and I welcome our first child (a matter of weeks!!!) so I anticipate a rather irregular posting schedule in the next few months.

If you enjoy this blog, please consider letting your friends know about it, commenting, and suggesting post topics. Thank you for your presence in my life, and I hope this new year is full of delight for you and yours.

Turn and Face the Strain

My husband has been singing this song by the inimitable David Bowie as we undergo our move. One verse I want to quote for you:

I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're going through.

A Temporary Lapse

Due to the overwhelming necessity of focusing on our move, guests, family, and the holidays, I'm signing out until the New Year. Thanks for your support, comments, and interesting thoughts! I look forward to reconnecting once our internet works again and I have a few moments to call my own.

Many blessings in this season!

Emily

I will be:

Playing music with family

Eating way too much wonderful food

Baking Bread

And many more things including, but not limited to: packing and unpacking, trying to set internet up at the new place, moaning in frustration over the ineptitude of the internet company, watching movies with my husband, eating homemade French Onion Soup, and making music with family.

I'll look forward to resuming contact in a few weeks! Until then, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Ch-ch-ch-change

I've always considered myself a change-lover, but I'm not sure where I got that misconception. The truth is, I love to think about change, to roll new ideas over in my mind, to look into the ramifications of this move or that opportunity, but when a door opens and I must go through it in my life, I suddenly think of all the things I'll miss from my old place, and find the uncertainty of the new overwhelming. Emotionally, I struggle until I find a new equilibrium.

The first box packed!

This I have had the chance to observe in myself lately, because my husband and I are moving. It's a wonderful move--lateral in space but most definitely an improvement on financial fronts--that will give us the freedom to consider more opportunities in the future. We will spend our first night in the new place on Christmas Eve.

Now I am eight months pregnant, so I am doing more directing than actual moving, and dear friends and family are volunteering their hours and muscles. We are about halfway moved, at that awkward stage where it seems that anytime we need anything it's at the other house.

The strange thing I'm realizing is that my fear of change does not make change bad! In fact, this fear should be faced and laid to rest as I root into the unchanging soil of love within and around me. If all were to change in a terrible way, I would still be loved and would still love. So let me hold to what is sure while all around me swirls, while my physical environment shifts, and while my accustomed routines are disrupted. Because I have all I need, here within me and beside me.

All I need is love. The rest is dispensible.