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Runnunculas!

Yet another flower that sounds like a Harry Potter spell. Can you imagine waving and pointing a wand while shouting "Runnuncula!"?

Anyway, Runnunculas are one of my favorite types of flowers. Naturally, when I saw them at Trader Jose's, I snatched them up and ran... to the cashier.

I used to hate flowers in vases because I thought, "What's the point? They're just going to die!" Then I realized that they'll die in their natural habitats as well. I also realized that having fresh flowers in one's room is very nice. They are little reminders that the world (or parts of it) is quite beautiful.

___

I've attached some pictures (from my lovely little cell phone) of the runnunculas I bought.

I'm going to ride away, or, for my bike-loving friends

Do you ever have those days where you just want to ride away? It's tempting to think that I could just ride away on my little bike with flowers in a basket and leave all of my troubles behind.

I think this Swede thought so, too.

Picture via: Purple Area, "Snygga Blickfang" (which means "pretty, eye catching pictures" basically).

Things that are free

I need to save money. No, you don't understand. I really need to save up some money. With the Gilbert hike and the Oxford conference coming up, I need to get as much into my already anemic bank account as possible.

Here's the catch: I love buying things. I.e: salads at New Frontiers, flats, blouses, candles, etc. Well, au revoir, to those!

From now until, well, probably sometime next year, it's hello cheapness! Hello deals! And, better than that, hello free things!

Some things that are free or very nearly free:

Going on a walk

Reading (probably for M.A test) outside in the sun (with lots of sunscreen, of course)

Blue flax seeds and soil

Naps with Kamilla (I never said free= productive)

Bike rides (must start up again!)

Making Swedish pancakes for roommates (not free, but very cheap)

and, of course,

p

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Alles Gute zum Geburtstag! (Happy birthday, mom!)

Happy birthday to the woman who:

• ran inside the trailer and shut the door when she thought she saw a bear, leaving Catherine and I outside by the campfire.


• Makes me Swedish pancakes almost whenever I request them


• Takes silly pictures of herself hiding behind the flowers Cat and I sent her


• Is the animal whisperer


• Is the neighborhood mom


• Dutifully made me three southern belle dresses and tracked down a shop that sold hoop skirts


• Learned how to do everything Dad did


• Fell through the ceiling from the attic attempting to do previous point


• can simultaneously hug me and crack my back


• who joyfully comes in from working outside, scratches on her arms, saying "Look what the bougainvilleas did to me!"


• loves me more than anyone!

Happy birthday, mom!

(p.s- Catherine took this picture of mom in Boise a couple of years ago. It doesn't express her "look at what the bougainvilleas" joyfullness, but I like it nonetheless!)

Oxford

"I don't give a ----- about an Oxford comma," but I do care about the "4th Fear, Horror, and Terror Conference" in Oxford, UK because my proposal got accepted. That is to say, I might be going to Oxford a bit before September 12. This means:

1. I'm not going to Ireland (where I originally thought the conference was to be held, for some reason...)

2. I need to start saving money A.S.A.P

3. I really should graduate this May... (so I don't have to worry about the conference and more M.A studying.)

4. My mom is bursting with pride even though I told her my paper proposal was accepted. They could very well read my paper (to be submitted in August) and wish they had never accepted me...

5. I need to talk to Dr. Marchbanks about my Daniel Deronda paper *after* the M.A exam.

For those of you who care, which is, naturally, all of you: I wrote my paper about the nature of fear in Daniel Deronda, specifically in Gwendolen Harleth. Essentially, she needs her crippling, hysterical thoughts and reactions and even real, physical danger in order to make her a better, less ego-centric person. Without fear, she'd continue to be an arrogant, shallow person. (That's a summary of 16 pages.)

Um, God save the Queen?

No. Right now I need:

Keep Calm and Carry On!

What a charming nose you have!

Don't bother me; I'm reading.

I'm reading approx. 150 pages of psychoanalysis today (for my critical theory class.) About half of it comes from this (<--) man.
While I *am* skeptical of almost all modern critical theory, I do think there are a few useful little gems sprinkled (or rather burried) within it.
Here's an example:

"Being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise."

So, here's your quiz: Who said this? Or, if you really dislike thinking about quotes, who is the man to the left, looking so hard at work? Hint: unheimlich!

The stuff that matters

It's raining, our power went out, and I couldn't see very well to read/study (or so I told myself). So, slightly depressed and more than willing to procrastinate under the pretense of "knowing what really matters in life," I made beef burgandy. Again. Except this time it was without the beef. (Beef, you see, is rather expensive and why eat cow when you don't absolutely need it?)

Anyway, I made my beouf bourguignon (sans beouf) and felt good about myself. Then I wished that my biggest problem in life *was* forgetting the tomato paste until the last minute, rather than feeling absolutely unprepared to take an M.A exam.

For that short time, I felt ein bisschen froh, and that's what it's about. Eating good food and taking the time to do it and not think about the crazy hoops life demands you jump through every so often (or constantly, like you're some super-agility-sheepdog.) Annnnyway.

Eat well, my friends.

Frohe Ostern!

Frohe Ostern!

Glad Påsk!

Happy Easter!

Whatever this holiday means to you,

(even if it means nothing to my Jewish readers...)

have a good one, my friends!

Appreciate the beauty found outside

(even if it's

a tree in your neighbor's

yard.)

What are your Easter traditions?

Did you know

that little Swedes dress up as witches and go door

to door collecting candy? They represent the bad

witches that many Swedes believed came on the Thursday

before Good Friday!

And the Germans, of course, invented the Easter Egg,

chocolate Easter bunny, and hunting for Easter eggs!

Random Picture Time!

It's 9:54-- a bit too early to go to sleep on a Thursday night but too late to post anything fabulously creative. I'm in the procrastinating (studying for the massive M.A test that will eat me in six weeks) mood so I decided I'd just post a random picture! Or rather, I am posting a picture that is selected from my files at random.


Let's give it a try.
Oh yes. These are my headbands from the 80s and early 90s. I didn't want to forget them, but I knew that if I donated them nobody would wear them, so I did what I so often do. I snapped a photo for memories and tossed them.
My, those things were hideous, and yet I wore them practically every day. My daycare/babysitter lady, Lon, would make them for me.
What a diversion! What fun!
Good night, everyone!

p.s- Sorry, Cash. I think the one on the far left was yours...

Hope

I took this picture with my cell phone. I just held it up in the air (while I was driving very, very slowly).

Books

Well, it was my first day back to school. I'm taking a German culture/film class (for fun, natürlich), contemporary literary theory and criticism (something I've always been wary of), and late 19th century American literature (the professor is new and has furloughed the first two weeks).

Let's just say that I'll be reading a lot. Can I emphasize that? A LOT.

Oh, and I just found out the M.A exam is in week seven, not week eight.

Bring on the panic. Bring on the coffee! Bring on the soothing photos that remind me that once, reading was really delightful and fun...

Like a fairytale!

Check out this beautiful wooden house in Siberia. People actually live in homes like these! Aren't they wonderful?

Look at how the sun and the shadows from the tree play on the detailed wood work! And what do you call that blue mini-roof thing over the doors? It's lovely!

I would love to at least visit such a house. I'll have to add Siberia to my travel list. :)

Photo from Vlad Studio.

Tart

While we're on the topic of food...

I thought I'd include this picture I took on my cell phone of a lovely fruit tart I spotted at a bakery in Ventura. (I got a mini version of it!)

I'm thinking of having a garden party in August for my birthday, and I'm thinking such a dessert would be perfect!

The kumquats are coming! The kumquats are coming!

I have finally finished grading at least 4,092 papers (at least it feels that way) and I have submitted 21 grades. This came with some fear and trepidation. For some reason, I'm terrified my finicky students are going to contest their grades. On the other hand, I'm afraid the head of the program will complain that my grades are too high. I didn't have one D! (The director feels that there should be a sprinkling of Ds in all final grade reports.)

So, rather than let the remainder of my break be plagued by these fears, I decided to take a recipe from the smitten kitchen (I belive it's just smittenkitchen.com) and make a "Spring stew" which is basically artichoke, lemon, pancetta, onion, and a few other small ingredients like that.

I went to Trader Joe's and was on my way to the pancetta when--oh my! What are those? Those little orange delights? What were they, reader? They were kumquats!

For awhile I have been wanting to try this odd fruit.

"Are you sure you eat the skins?" I would ask my friend skeptically at the Farmer's Market.

"Yes, yes. You roll the kumquat in your hands to release the odors and such, and then you eat it!" she informed me, probably feeling very superior in her kumquat knowledge.

So I bought some! They say Spring! They say Summer is on the way! They say Sprunger! (Ok, now you can tell I've graded papers for two days straight.) They are so brilliantly orange and oval shaped and bite sized and perfect.

Anyway, go out and try some, readers! They're so delightful and it feels so wrong to eat the skin!

Happy You-Must-Wear-Green Day

So, if there's one thing I dislike, it's cheese. Actually, I love cheese and I dislike many things. Let's try that again. I dislike cheesiness. I dislike having to wear green because people (thinking they're rather clever) pinch you and claim that a leprechaun will do the same if you don't put some green on at once.

I dislike people who are 1/100th Irish using this day as an excuse to get drunk and go to school, too, but that's another matter.

Anyway, I *do* like the occasional green element in my outfits. I think this girl from Stockholm (photographed by the Sartorialist in 2007) does an excellent job of incorporating green into her wardrobe without looking like a total cheeseball. Granted, this was taken in August and not on March 17th, but you get the picture.

Americans, take note! ...and go eat some soda bread.

6:30pm

At 6:30 pm, you know, the time most people eat dinner, Kamilla and I decided it was time for a nap. So, we took one. (Honestly, how can you not be inspired to nap when you have a cat?)

Now we're all charged for the rest of the night: Linguistics final, you will be mine!

p.s- daffodils = 1.29 at Trader Joe's

Why is it that, come every finals week, I simply can't focus?

Perhaps it's because I find websites like weheartit and get distracted by amazing photos like this one. Appropriately, it's a clock... tick. Tick. Tick. Tick...

Three Years

It's hard to believe I lost my father three years ago today. I think it's really easy to romanticize those who have passed on, but I can honestly say that my dad was one of the best people I knew.

Here's why:

Every day he would kiss me on the forehead and say "I love you" at least once (I thought this was silly and annoying when I was in the throws of my teenage years, but now I really appreciate it.)

Nighttime philosophical talks

Introducing me to music

Introducing me to cleaning...

Hash breakfast (left over hamburger meat, zucchini, potatoes, onions, broccoli...)

Sailing

Carrying my tent and backpack through the switchbacks on the way to Gilbert Peak for me

Meeting me in England so we could fly to then explore Sweden and Denmark just because he knew I was obsessed with Scandinavia

5000 more reasons

This is a picture of us in Stockholm in 2006.

I miss you, Dad.

How to make Mondays happy

I think if I could wear this, even the gloomiest Monday mornings might be ok. Look how lovely it is! The two best colors in the world united in one charming cardigan!

Does anybody have 88 dollars to spare? Or, perhaps, would anyone like to convince me that spending 88 dollars on a cardigan at this point in my life isn't actually so bad? (I read you could survive off of pasta and pb&j for 28 dollars a month, for example.)

What are some of your favorite clothing items, readers?

*Note: Valerie, I already know you like to dress as inconspiciously and plainly as possible....

Can you knit me a vase?

It's beginning to rain again, but nearly-Spring flowers are blooming. What's one to do? I'd recommend sticking some flowers in this lovely knit vase by Ferm Living, a Danish design company. ("Ferm" in Danish means "clever.")

If flowers aren't your thing, stashing some colored pencils inside the vase would be equally charming, plus, they'd stay nice and cozy.

So, who wants to knit me a vase?

Berlin

One day I will live here, if only for a little while. I'll go to all of the cafes and museums and cabarets and trainstations. I'll improve my German (but refuse the Berliner dialect) and I'll see the city that is always changing.

I also might improve my collage making skills.

Maybe one day you'll find me here.

oh, and if I could pull this off, I would totally wear this

http://www.thesartorialist.com/photos/3059BalVikaWeb.jpg

Cats don't like leashes

Never try to leash your cat. She'll look at you with shock and consternation, and she might see a dog, get scared, and try to run away. Of course, you might still be holding the leash, so she'll rear up, running in place with her back legs, front legs pawing in the air.

She will then retire to her (your) bedroom and sleep/recover from the humility for the next three hours.

As white as paper

These are simply the best flowers. They are fresh, clean, crisp and not cloying. They are the flowers I admired every day in London at the little flowershop by the tube. They were my comforts when Sadie died. My mother now has them in her kitchen and doesn't know what to do with them (perhaps I'm not related to her, afterall...) They are...

the great...

the wonderful...

the oh, so Lizzy...

paper whites!

(Ok, so their full name is paper white narcissus, but it sounds a bit off to say your favorite flowers are narcissuses.)

Picture: flickr, Carlye Calvin's paper whites

N/A V-Day

N/A. Not applicable. It's Valentine's Day and this is the general sentiment I feel. It is neither sad nor in-your-face-woman-power-take-that. It's just, well, N/A.

I sometimes think the media portrays singles on Valentine's Day as pathetic, crying, lonesome people playing "One is the Loneliest Number" or "Mr. Lonely" on repeat or something, but the media fails to acknowledge that some people are more likely to feel a pleasant sort of apathy.

For example, I have no qualms about receiving friendly V-Day cards or chocolates or cookies from friends. I also have no problem feeling like I have to buy these things for others. I do like the color red, so potentially garish Valentine's Day hearts don't bother me as much as they could.

The thing is, I'm a bit too busy with other things in my life to care enough to treat Valentine's Day as, say, Christmas, and I think that's the way life should be. (Sorry, Martha Stewart.)

Now, I'm off to read Daniel Deronda, perhaps do a bit of shopping, and have a relaxing, warm and sunny Sunday, and you know what? That's perfectly fine.

(Feel free to mail the chocolates, though.)

Roses

... I'm assuming this isn't the repetition of the German feminine definite article.

I love this.

Really, how can you not smile?

You know you're having a bad day when you drop your pizza on the floor face down and get upset enough about it to cry then decide that you're too overwhelmed with other stuff to do to even bother making something else so you go to your room and write a run-on sentence and feel sorry for yourself.

Just saying.

So, I'll try to focus on things that made/make me happy:

1. I got a postcard from the Pacific Wildlife Center: "Thank you for dropping off the finch. We hope to release him soon!" (I sincerely hope that they are honest and aren't just trying to play with my emotions so I'll donate money to them.)

2. Kamilla, Kamilla, Kamilla! My darling, purr-ball. I love seeing you race to the front door when I come home.

3. Writing nooks and spring gardens.

7 pages?!

I've decided to take the M.A exam this May rather than November because, frankly, I'm ready to end this chapter of my life. There's just one, tiny problem... I printed out the M.A reading list, and it is seven pages long. That's right! Seven! 7! Siete! Sieben!

Ok, bring on the Faulkner. Hello, Hawthorne. Good morning, Dryden. I still hate you, Faerie Queene.

The little finch

Yesterday I tried to save a bird. I hope I did. He was the sweetest little thing.

I picked him up--he couldn't fly, only spun in tight circles on the ground--and he nestled

in my hand. His little feet gripped my thumb and I sheltered his unbelievably light body

from the wind with my other hand.

I met an old woman who told me he was a finch. Finches like thistle seeds, she said. She

put a pinch of them in my hand and wished me well, but the finch didn't eat them.

I became fiercly protective of my little finch (yes, I thought of him as mine, now) and told

myself I'd do anything to save him. I locked Kamilla out of my room (she yowled and pawed

at my door like a wild thing) and decided to take the finch to the vet. Surely they'd know

what was wrong with him.

Emilie drove us to the vet and a rather unsympathetic Dr. Sheila said "it's probably a neurological problem... there doesn't seem to be any broken bones... but he doesn't want to

use his legs." She concluded with "I'd be happy to euthanize him for you!" She must have seen my horror, because she quickly offered "or you could call Pacific Wildlife."

Back at home, I called Pacific Wildlife and put the finch in his coffee filter box with his thistle seeds and one of my socks for him to warm himself. The bond was getting stronger and stronger. I love animals, of course, but this was an urgent sort of love. He HAD to get better. I put droplets of water on his beak and he tried to swallow them, but eventually they just fizzed in the corners of his beak. I just let him rest and waited for P.W to call.

Within 40 minutes I was in Morro Bay at the Pacific Wildlife center. They took the finch, took down all the information I had, and a nice young lady told me I could call back to check on him if I wanted. I did want to, but the fear of receiving bad news would devastate me too much. Maybe I'll give it another day.

As I got in my car, I realized they still had my sock. I was glad.

One of my favorites

THAT crazed girl improvising her music.
Her poetry, dancing upon the shore,
Her soul in division from itself
Climbing, falling
She knew not where,
Hiding amid the cargo of a steamship,
Her knee-cap broken, that girl I declare
A beautiful lofty thing, or a thing
Heroically lost, heroically found.
No matter what disaster occurred
She stood in desperate music wound,
Wound, wound, and she made in her triumph
Where the bales and the baskets lay
No common intelligible sound
But sang, 'O sea-starved, hungry sea.'

William Butler Yeats

Brave New Year

Prosit Neujahr! May all of your resolutions be obtained, and if you didn't make resolutions, then blast you for your perfection and/or contentment! Just kidding... sort of.

I am a believer in resolutions, but not necessarily new year resolutions. It's certainly convenient to have a brand new year to start out with, though, don't you think? If I lived in a colder climate, I think I'd be even more enthused about the new year: every breath of cool, crisp air would fill me with hope and a sense of freshness. As it is, I'm fanning myself at my desk in the morning and afternoons and wrapping myself up in blankets (no snuggies, please) at night. But I digress.

I've made a few resolutions, but all of them fall under one category:

TREATING MYSELF BETTER

It's not that I was some masochistic maniac before, but I certainly lost sight of priorities. (What's panic attacks and high blood pressure when one can get straight As?) Now, however, I have resolved to treat myself like *I* matter, not just my academic output, if that makes sense.

Two mantras to help me that I discovered in the most shameful places (i.e- a Mary Engelbreit calander and PEOPLE magazine):

1. The world is full of cactus (no, not cacti) but you don't have to sit on it.

2. Nobody ever wins an argument.

Irrelevant bonus tip: If you're going to attempt Julia Child's Beouf Bourguignon, make sure to set aside at least SIX hours... This is especially important if you invite your aunt over at 5:00pm and she expects dinner at this time.

Second irrelevant bonus tip: Do not trust pumpkin pie recipes you find online if there are more than a few typos on the website... you will end up with a flavorless pumpkin quiche.

So, there you have it. Treat yourself well, don't sit on a cactus, don't try to win an argument, avoid pumpkin pie recipes with typos, and have a ________(insert fabulous adjective here) new year!

*Painting by Camilla Engman called "The Adventure"