Moving Forward: Gain and Loss

I drink prophetic tea. Mostly because it tastes delicious, and partly because the tea label imparts words of wisdom like this:

For every loss there's an equal gain. For every gain an equal loss.

These words couldn't ring more true for me in this part of my life, where it seems like every decision I make yields amazing joy yet requires immense sacrifice.

You could say I've moved out of the "honeymoon phase" of life, so to speak. The idealism of my teenage years and the glory days of college have passed in a whirlwind, and tiny bits of reality have seeped into my thought process. (What a bummer!) Don't get me wrong, I still possess an unflinching hope for the adventure ahead, but I also know that every move I make not only takes me a step forward in that adventure but also causes me to leave something behind.

Recently, that step forward has been "nesting" in my current town: committing to organizations, branching out to meet new people ... to put it simply, planting roots here. In the year-plus since I've moved to this place, I haven't allowed myself to do that. I've clung to my original roots--old friends, old hobbies, an old way of thinking--and that hindered my moving-on process. While all those things I held on to were (are!) wonderful in their own right, place and time, I allowed myself to linger in them, which caused me to sacrifice the relationship I have with this new phase of my life.

The 20-something journey is a little like adolescence. You're no longer the "kid" you once were, but the idea becoming a settled adult seems preposterous. Letting go of the comforts of the past is difficult--I'd even go so far as to say a little heart-breaking--but a sense of freedom comes in relinquishing control and allowing new opportunities to prevail.

Good things have come out of the few weeks since I took that step forward, saying to myself, "I'm going to be happy here (here being the physical city I live in and the time of life I occupy) until it's time for me to move on." I'm sure the gain won't come without its struggles, but that's all part of the adventure, isn't it?

Photo thanks!

Lessons Learned

Hello dear bloggy friends!

Words cannot describe how very much I've missed you over the past couple months. As I sit here and type this, I'm actually getting a little weepy-eyed over how negligent I've been of this blog and of you. Amid getting wrapped up in my no-longer-as-new life in this no-longer-as-new city, I've forgotten that part of the fun of the journey is to get to share it with you.

Well, that negligence stops now!

So what exactly have I been doing since I last left you? (Oh my, we last spoke March 30!) Well, here's a quick little recap. (Hopefully I can remember the deets ... it's been such a blur.)

1. I finished a majorly huge project at work. It ate up a lot of my hours and a lot of my energy, but all the hard work paid off. The website I've been working on since... well... since I started my job, is finally off the ground! After spending so much of my life (4 years college and 3 years post grad) preparing for such a feat, it's refreshing to see the fruits of my (and my wonderful co-workers') labor!

2. I ran my 3rd half marathon. And we started the race in a thunderstorm. Epic! The race was amazing ... despite having thrown out my back (doing yoga, of all things) a mere week prior, I ran my easiest, fastest 13 miles yet at 2:12. Best of all, I reunited with my college running buddies and had my favorite guy and favorite mother cheering me on.

3. I got a cat. I adopted a 5-year-old kitten from my friend's soon-to-be hubby because she's deathly allergic to animals. The cat's name is Ringo, but I affectionately call her "Kitten." Actually, she was pretty much MIA for our first month together. (A bit of a scaredy cat, I'm afraid.) Just recently she's come out to play and cuddle ... and jump on my table top. (Bad kitten!)

4. I officially became a PC user. It's not something I'm proud of, but sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. I still keep my little iBook on hand if I need to stroke its glossy white casing or feel the urge to drag-n-drop. Maybe, just maybe, I can one day return to the days of Mac bliss (maybe if their prices drop a couple hundred), but for now this PC gets the job done.

4. I nurtured a long-distance relationship. Three hours has been more difficult than I imagined, but completely worth it. We're going three months strong. Coincidentally, three months ago is when my blog posts became more sparse. I swear this is merely coincidental, but I give you permission to throw a little blame in his direction. (Wink.)

5. I bought Ikea pillows. This really needs no explanation. Ikea is awesome and the pillows are pretty.

Of course, all these events are not just moments swept under the rug. The past couple months have challenged me in many ways and I feel like I've really grown through these experiences (especially through the Ikea pillow-buying). Here are my (dum dum dum)...

LESSONS LEARNED:

1. Never (I mean NEVER!) launch a website and train for any physical competition at the same time. When you have to choose between checking an item off your exponentially growing work-to-do list and running 10 miles, and the hour is reaching 8 p.m., you are not in a good place. I'm not at all skeptical that this mental and physical stress revealed itself in a rather painful back spasm. (Oh, the hard lessons we 20-somethings must learn.)

2. Cats aren't dogs. I'm utterly swept up in dog envy, but due to apartment constraints and the inability to be a good mommy to a little sweetie pie of a puppy, a cat seemed like a good compromise for pet companionship. While the cat and I are warming up rather nicely to each other, she doesn't fulfill my longing to add a dog to the family.

3. I can live with a PC, but I need to buy my own Internet. Confession of a blogger: I stole Internet from my neighbor for about 6 months after moving in. Well, they moved and I'm unconnected. About a month later, I'm starting to feel the burden. Sometime in the near future, I'm going to suck it up and become a real adult. An adult who doesn't steal. (Stealing is bad.)

4. Ikea is awesome. The second time I visit, I will allow myself more than 2 hours to browse the apex of affordable home decor.

5. I will never leave you again. Ok, I can't make complete promises --life does indeed happen sometimes. But this oath I will give to you: You are important to me, and I will go the distance to share this journey with you.

Tell me, dear friends: What has life thrown your way lately?

Photo thanks!

One Unbelievable Baking Blunder

Yesterday, I was going to bake boller, a favorite Norwegian snack, akin to the likeness of the American chocolate chip cookie. I had this whimsical idea in my mind that I would fashion these sweet cardamom rolls from yeast and flour and sugar and the oh-so-beautiful-smelling cardamom. (It really has a lovely scent!) Then I would share my scrumptious creations, and people would oh and ah as they nibbled on the rolls topped with butter or honey.

If only such dreams of whimsy came true.

My first err in action came when I decided this would be a fun project to start at 9 p.m. The second came when I opted not to look carefully at the recipe before diving into action.

The first ingredient in the recipe called for 2 1/2 cups warm milk. I'm not much of a milk drinker, so when I know I'm going to be baking, I'll buy a pint so it doesn't go bad. Well, during my last trip to the grocery store, I thought I'd be extra conservation-minded, and pick up the smallest container of milk they had - as I found out shortly before mixing my ingredients, it was a half a cup too short.

No biggie. I quickly zipped over to the gas station, supplemented my supply, and continued with my baking endeavor. Or so I thought.

I began heating the milk, started mixing the yeast and sugar, melting the butter, and then I looked at the next ingredient: Oh crap! The recipe called for 5 1/2 cups flour. A sinking feeling overtook me as I recalled my last baking project gone awry (lemon bars that never set) that depleted my stash. I donned my shoes and jacket for another trip out to the store.

Once I had my all-purpose flour in hand, I continued with my baking.

"... mix together the warm milk, melted butter, sugar, and yeast. Allow to stand for about 10 minutes, until the yeast is good and foamy," the recipe said.

Cool! A science experiment, too! I mixed the ingredients and waited for the yeast to foam.

And I waited.

And I waited some more.

It's 20 minutes later and I'm still waiting.

Feeling like I was watching the pot that would never boil, my impatience got the best of me and I continued on.

Everything was finally mixed together and the recipe told me to wait an hour for the dough to rise twice its size. (See where my second mistake is coming into play?) I sigh, but at this point there's not much I can do; I'm committed. I put the bowl near the warm vent, covered it with a towel and began waiting (again).

Partway through my waiting, I took a peek under the towel to see science in action.

Uh oh.

The dough wasn''t rising. In fact, I think it shrunk a little.

Intent on persevering through this expedition in Norwegian baking, I let the remainder of the hour take its toll and continued on. Following the recipe (which at this point wasn't going so well) I punched my unrisen dough. My hand was now covered in ooey gooeyness. (Not quite the "slightly sticky" texture I was supposed to aim for.)

I tried to knead the dough, but my attempts were futile as my dough began to resemble something more like The Blob of the late 50s horror film than future pastries.

Hoping for a bit salvation, I threw some more flour into the mix. (And a little more. And yet a little more.) Maybe it was working. (Or maybe not.) Either way, it was approaching midnight and I had to finish these damn rolls.

The recipe said to roll the dough into balls slightly bigger than golf balls and let them sit for another 30 to 45 minutes. My golf balls looked something like this:


And perhaps only because I like to make myself suffer, I waited out the 30 to 45 minutes. At that point, right before I put the cardamom roll wannabes into the oven, they still looked like this:

Twenty minutes later, I had this:


The second batch was kind and attempted to rise for me:


And I'll tell you what: Once 1 a.m. rolled around, they didn't taste half bad ... maybe just a little dense. (Ok, today they just tasted soggy and I'm probably going to throw them out.)

Lesson learned: Next time, I'll stick to my American roots and make chocolate chip cookies.

Itching to Garden

My blueberry bush arrived this weekend! It's a cute little guy with dainty green branches. Although it's young, it appears to be healthy.

I'm trying to figure out how to care for my new charge. From what I've read, blueberry bushes are difficult to grow in containers because their roots spread wide and they've got a fickle thirst. (You can't water them too much and you can't water them too little.) But blueberries in pots have been grown before, and because container gardening is my only option at the moment, I must give it a try.

Sometime this week, I need to go buy it dirt. This is intimidating, and I chickened out on doing it this weekend. Blueberries need acidic soil high in organic matter. I read a blueberry-growing tutorial that suggested mixing peat moss with homemade compost, but in my little space with limited resources, a pre-mixed bag from the local gardening center will have to do. Until recently, I didn't realize that dirt wasn't merely dirt, so I've got to mentally prepare myself for some intensive label-reading.

Hopefully, with a dose of TLC on my part and a nudge of beginners luck, my berries will be flourishing in no time. My gardening itch has hit full force. I'm impatiently waiting for consistently warm weather so I can work on figuring out the rest of my apartment garden.

I'm Back ... For Now ... With T-Shirts

Well, hello old friends! I have been gone for a long while. I looked at the calender and I couldn't believe we've already hit spring! I'm so excited for the change of season, but time is moving so fast.

Long story short, I've been absent because life got a bit crazy. And by life, I mean work. I love what I do and it's a lot of fun, but this month has kept me quite busy. I'm lucky if I cross the threshold to my apartment without passing out.

Luckily, tonight I have a little extra burst of energy. So what do I do? Shop for fun t-shirts online, of course. These would totally make up my wardrobe if only every day were casual day:





(I can't stop giggling.)

Women of the World

When I got home this evening and opened up my laptop for a little blogging time, I wanted to write to you about International Women's Day. I wanted to teach you about the plight of women across the world. I wanted to let ring in your minds the startling statistics surrounding domestic violence, oppressive labor conditions and gender inequality. I wanted to stir your emotions and share all these things with you.

But the truth is, I'm just learning about all these things myself.

I read books about women in this country and abroad who were forced into trafficking circles and other violent situations. I went to Cambodia for a year and looked in the face of these women quoted in statistics about poverty. I talk to people in my own city in Kentucky who interact on a daily basis with women who live in desperation. But despite all this information I take in - despite how much I want to care and sympathize and seek justice - I cannot REALLY understand what it means to bear the burden of a woman in this world.

You see, my reality is an easy one.

From day one, I've had no other option than to choose the high road. I grew up in suburbia, and while those of us who grew up there complain about how dreadfully boring it can be, suburbia presented us with endless possibilities. Girls in suburbia are taught they can achieve anything they want. They can be a doctor or a lawyer or a race-car driver ... it doesn't matter which destiny they choose; they can achieve it as long as they put their minds to it.

I was raised thinking there was no other real options than to go to college, get a job and start your life. And of course, I complied, because achieving anything less would be tragic.

I fulfilled my destiny. I wanted to go to college, so I went to college. I wanted to travel the world, so I traveled the world. I wanted to become Ms. Editor at a Magazine, so I became Ms. Editor at a Magazine.

This is wonderful. Each and every day I feel blessed that this is my life. But when I read a statistic such as 60 percent of chronically hungry people are women and girls, I can't help but feel guilty and a little sad that I don't have the ability to understand what this reality is like. So while I want to seek justice and take action on the wars women face, I find myself hitting brick walls, because to me it isn't real.

But on this day, International Women's Day, a day when we attempt to make the future better for the women whose lives haven't been so easy, I want to say thanks to all the women I've met who are doing amazing things to improve the woman's condition. You ladies are my reality. You are fighting on the campaign field, bringing joy to others through dance, educating people in all walks of life, raising kids who aren't your own, sharing your faith in a foreign land, advocating for the disadvantaged, and making use of a beautiful language. You are the true loveliness of this world.

Photo thanks!

Salads: The Easy Option

Soup has been my go-to food of the winter. I make a huge pot of tortilla soup or chili and freeze serving-size portions for nights when I get home late or it's too cold to do anything but wrap up in a blanket.

The warm, sunny weather in Lexington this weekend had me thinking about what my "easy meal" option will be for spring and summer. It, I decided, most likely will be salad.

My salad style is fresh and colorful. I like to start with baby spinach as the base, and from there the options are endless. Heavy doses of cucumber are a must, and nuts are a filling topping that add textural flair. (Almonds or walnuts or walnuts are my favorites.) Recently, I've been a fan tossing in extra green pepper and tiny heirloom tomatoes (in red, green, yellow and purple!) into the mix.

The great thing about salads is the flexible recipe. You can add anything your taste buds desire (or anything you can dig out of the fridge, if grocery day is approaching). Some of my other favorite salad mixers include:

• Carrots
• Celery
• Radishes
• Broccoli
• Cauliflower
• Artichokes
• Black beans
• Garbonzo beans
• Peas
• Mushrooms
• Avacado
  
• Red Onion

Of course, some sort of dietary extra is required for a well-rounded flavor. I personally don't like cheese with salad dressing, so I usually choose one or the other. When it comes to cheese, I like something rich. Feta always tops a salad well, and I recently experimented with shredded asiago, which worked out pleasantly.

As far as dressings go, I prefer simple vinaigrettes. Equal parts olive oil and vinegar (red wine or balsamic!) work just fine. Kraft need not apply. If I want to get swanky, I finish my bowl with freshly ground black pepper sprinkled on top.

I'm looking forward to salad evenings - especially munching and crunching on my westward-facing porch while watching the summer sunset. My taste buds are always eager to try something new, though. Do tell me what you add to your favorite salad!

On A Melodic Note

I'm so excited to share with you that I'm finally beginning to get music back in my life. I don't mean this metaphorically. I don't mean that I turned on the Top 40 station and sung along. I mean I'm literally playing music again! It's (almost) beautiful.

The last time I picked up my flute and let my fingers flutter across its little keys was ... well, to tell you the truth, I can't remember the last time I did this. I'd forgotten the feeling of breathing life into the inanimate object and having a soft and sweet melody flow from the end. Of traveling up and down the staff in smooth waves. Of holding a note, long and mellow, and letting it stretch across the room. It takes your mind from the harshness of everyday life to somewhere more blissful and perfect.

Although I'm a bit rusty (my fingers don't quite have the same precision about them that they did 5 years ago), I'm happily surprised at how I can easily I can fall into the rhythm of a tune. Even after I've put my instrument asleep for the night, I find myself dancing around the apartment to hymns and sonatas.

I'm a person who appreciates all kinds of music, but the classic melodies played on woodwinds bring a certain spirit into the room that no other genre can. They are so rich - full of meaning, joy and life. I'm so happy to allow this into my life again.

Do you play an instrument (or did you)? Which one?

My Little Apartment Orchard To Be

My grandma (Mam) and I are what you could call kindred spirits. Even as I've moved out of Ohio, I feel like through our weekly (or more often than that) phone chats, we have become closer than ever. This week, our conversation ventured to the arena of spring planting.

Mam has one of the greenest thumbs of anyone I know. She is happiest in her garden, and and when she merely looks at a flower, it will blossom and flourish vibrantly and fragrantly. Of course, she has to give any praise you dote on her a good Midwestern denial of any such talents.

This year, she decided that because all her plants were "dying," she'd try ordering herself a blueberry bush from the gardening store. The price in the Sunday newspaper ads seemed just right, and you grow it in a pot, so it must be easy.

Of course, I, the one who constantly has visions of culinary herbs dancing around my head, got excited at this notion and jealously declared I wanted one as well. Can you imagine the pure deliciousness fresh blueberries and yogurt for breakfast every morning? And what about blueberry muffins (with lavender!), and, oh, blueberry cobbler! How could NOT having your very own blueberry machine (er, bush) ever be a good idea?

We continued our raving at this fabulous thought and other spring fancies. I shared my determination to grow my squash from seed without killing the poor little seedling and my fantasy of having my own apartment-size Meyers lemon tree. (So whimsical, right?)

"Ok, dear... that's a little odd..." Mam said in the way that means she's skeptical but delighting in your crazy ideas.

And so, our conversation ended. Mam set out to invest in her little blueberry bush and I went home to dream of all the things I can grow on my balcony when the weather turns warm.

Then the next night, I received a phone call.

"Dear, you don't have to call me back," Mam told my voicemail. "But I ordered you a blueberry bush. It should arrive at your apartment in the spring."

Yipee! Blueberries and yogurt, and muffins, cobbler and pie ... oh my! I can already feel those cerulean baubles of antioxidants dancing over my tongue, filling my belly, and refreshing my soul.

Then today at work, I received another phone call.

"Dear, you don't have to call me back," Mam told my voicemail. "But I ordered you a lemon tree. It should arrive at your apartment soon."

Can a girl be so lucky as to have a grandmother who really knows how to spoil AND be the future keeper of a Meyers lemon tree? Oh yes, she can. That she is me!

Photo thanks!

Welcome Weekend!

Oh my goodness, it's already Friday! Where has the week - and for that matter, the month - gone?

I've been trudging through the last week in February in a semi-dormant haze. For some reason, I've been super tired, and I can't wait for the weekend to catch up on sleep and the other to-dos that slipped off the list:

*Go grocery shopping.
*Pick out the computer I'm going to buy. (Bad news, I'm switching to the dark side.)
*Find a place for the stuff I dropped in the doorway when I returned from last weekend's trip to Columbus.
*Run 6 miles. (In reality, this number should read 8.)
*Practice flute for Sunday. (Wednesday's rehearsal proved me preeeeetty rusty.)
*Buy green tights and shamrock bling.
*Admire the beautiful bouquet I received at the office today:

I've definitely had more thrilling weekends, but this list should keep me busy until Monday rolls around.

What are you doing this weekend?

Silver Anniversary

T


This week my parents celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary, and in this day and age I think that's pretty special.

Over the weekend, I snuck into their wedding album and stole some photos just so I could share them with you. (Surprise, Mom and Dad!) Eighties wedding wear makes me giggle, but I think the photos are cute.

Congrats, parents! Here's to 25 more.

Biking for Dillon

My brother does cool things like make me floralicious wall art and wear a lip ring. But probably the coolest thing of them all is the 160-mile bike ride he participates in every year.

For three days in April, he puts his legs on the line for kids for whom riding a bike is a precious gift. His two-wheel quest down the open road supports St. Vincent Mercy Children’s Hospital in Toledo, Ohio, to help sick children attend therapy camps, to purchase hospital medical supplies and equipment, and much more.

Over the years, Zach has gotten to know one of the kids from the hospital named Dillon. Dillon rides the last leg of the route with the team, Zach says:

At our last stop the head of the committee attaches a side car on the back of their bike and he rides in with us. He looks forward to it every year ... When he visits us he's so playful and full of smiles. He loves the attention we give him and he wants everyone to hold and play with him.

I admire Zach's desire to give back. If you'd like to support him and Dillon in this year's Bike for Tykes, click here.

Save the Date

It's only February and I can already feel wedding season kicking into gear.

I just received my first "save the date" of the year, and it makes me absolutely giddy. My barista friend met his fiance at the coffee shop where he works. She would pick up a latte during her breaks from Pottery Barn (located across the mall) and became a regular in his shop. What started as deal in espresso soon frothed into love.

Isn't their announcement the perfect tribute to the start of their relationship. I adore the "heart" in the middle of the mermaiden's chest!

Sweet starts and happy endings make me smile. Do you have a good story to tell?

Fat Tuesday

While jesters are off in far-off lands dancing and bartering for beads, I'm snuggling in at home and enjoying my own Mardi Gras indulgence. On tonight's menu: buckwheat pancakes and pure maple syrup.

I'm usually a buttermilk pancake and maple-FLAVORED syrup girl, but this is Fat Tuesday, after all. Sometimes you just gotta let loose. The verdict on my meal-time adventures for this week:

Pure Maple Syrup = 2 (sticky) thumbs up
Buckwheat Pancakes = Maybe I can barter the leftover mix for some beads

While I thought the whole wheat, no trans fat and high fiber would be a healthier alternative to the Fat-Tuesday fare, it turns out if you're going to do fat, you should just do fat. After pancakes that tasted a bit like cardboard (OK, maybe I could get used to them), I'm still craving a bit of fluffiness in my stacks.

The maple syrup, on the other hand, was quite the welcome adventure for my tongue. As a fan of maple sugar candies, I'm not sure why I've never given this condiment a try, but I'm glad to start now.

How crazy did you get for Mardi Gras this year?

The Red Rain Trench

The other night I had a dream I was wearing a red rain trench. It was chic and shiny and had big red buttons and a hood to keep my head dry. The red was vibrant and energetic - the color of a blooming amaryllis. I don't remember anything else about the dream, just that I was wearing this fabulous jacket.

I'm of the school of thought that dreams allow us to peek into our innermost selves - the part of our being that our waking self doesn't understand. What does my red trench mean? The dream itself so simple, yet the meaning it holds could penetrate depths.

According to DreamForth.com:

To see red in your dream indicates raw power, élan, fervor, intense passion, agression, authority and bravery. It connotes deep emotions and spirituality. ... To dream of the color red suggests danger, stigma and even compulsion, particularly in sex. Your dream is a nudge for you to rethink your actions and avoid being impulsive.

As for the jacket, it says:

To see or wear a jacket in your dream is a symbol of the impression you hope to express to others. It may also signify your tendency to be cynical and suspicious. You should use caution with your actions or you may risk pushing others away and repressing your emotions. Pay attention to the look, color, and texture of the jacket as this can hold more meanings.

What do you think? Be my dream interpreter.

Photo thanks!

Be My Inspiration?

I'm sick. It's snowing. I'm sick of being sick. And I'm sick of it being snowy.

Now, there's a situation that makes it hard to find inspiration in life.

With all this sickness and snowiness, the creativity part of my brain machine (as well as the part that turns words into sentences) has turned idle. Being sick - last week with the flu (ew!) and this week with the start of a cold - has zapped me of all energy. Plus, we're moving into the dog days of winter (if there's not such a thing there is now) and man are they long! (This coming from the girl who hadn't felt temperatures under 45 degrees F for about two years.) As I sit here and stare at the inside of my little hibernation cave, I'm craving something that will reignite my zeal for life.

Maybe this is just a big ol' pitty party, or maybe I need some outside help. Where do you turn for inspiration when the winter is just too long? Tell me please!

Photo thanks!

A Mug For Me

Wouldn't this mug from CafePress.com be perfect for sipping coffee when on deadline? (Yes, the editor geek in me is out.)

A Long Winter?

Well, today in Lexington the sun did not shine, so I'm pulling for only four more weeks of winter. But apparently the groundhog in Pennsylvania (aka the one that counts) saw his shadow. Let's hope the old wives tale doesn't hold true. I'm ready for SPRING!

Photo thanks!

Back into Gear

Since temperatures dropped back to the sub-zero range, I have taken a three-day hiatus from my half-marathon training plan. As I sit inside where it's warm and cozy and I can sip my hot tea, I'm having horrible time finding the motivation to drive to the gym for this week's long run. Do you have the same problem when cold weather strikes?

If you aren't on a training regimen, or the usual desire to be healthy (and look good for bathing suit season) doesn't drive you to hit the track, here are some other things to keep in mind when you feel defeated by frigid temps. (Remember, the experts said it, not me):

• Exercising keeps you looking young. A German study found that marathon runners at age 50 look much younger than their sedentary counterparts. Plus, the boost in activity seems to do good things under the skin as well, such as keep your DNA in top-notch condition.


• Exercising makes you smarter. Older women who practice strength training for an hour each week do better with making decisions, resolving conflicts and ignoring distractions, say researchers in British Columbia. So we young folk might as well give ourselves a fighting chance and get into the habit early.

Mmmmm. This food for thought helps, but I'm still looking for some motivation love. Let me know what kicks you into gear!

Photo thanks!

Snow Day!

Winter weather overtook Lexington last night and a blanket of white powder now covers the ground. What a perfect excuse to be lazy and enjoy in life's simple pleasures. Today I:

Made comfort food...


Painted with water colors...


And watched movies.


It's been a delightful and relaxing Saturday.

Did it snow where you are?