Living Deliberately in Concord

Concord has been the home of many great American thinkers and writers like Louisa May Alcott, Henry David Thoreau, and Ralph Waldo Emerson to name a few triple monikered locals.

From the center of town, a path weaves out to Walden Pond. While we're in the middle of another snow storm right now, there was a perfect coating of snow on the woodland trails.

It was unseasonably warm for the Northeast - over 40 degrees F - but people were still out on the pond ice-fishing. We kept to solid ground and walked the entire perimeter. 

It was a bit slippery, but we managed to make it around the Pond.

We then headed back to the site of Henry David Thoreau's cabin. The structure has been gone for centuries, but the ideas of connecting with nature and living deliberately thrives. We have one chance to enjoy as much of life as possible, so go outside, look at the stars, and eat that cake / cheese / wine.

Christmas Nights, Christmas Lights

Since we spend Christmas Eve and Day at my parent's house in and then this year are heading immediately to England (!), A and I always celebrate our own Christmas one weekend before December 25th. This year we headed to brunch at one of my favorite places in Boston: Kitchen.

Kitchen brings to life dishes and recipes from throughout time - all the meals have dates of origin next to them on the menu, dating all the way back to a 17th century 'sallet' (salad). I love the historical aspect, the old cookbooks and records that make up the decor of the small South End locale, but I most of all love the doughnuts:

But really

I don't even really like doughnuts as rule (cider doughnuts be an exception) but these little pillows of cinnamon-y sugar goodness are heavenly. They are both a brunch starter and a dessert; they actually appear on the brunch menu twice. They are perfection in a little warm cakey bite, completed by the berry jam and vanilla sauce. 

LOOK at that

During brunch hours, complimentary homemade warm from the oven muffins are also served. 

A broken muffin still remembers it's true strength

The evening carb offering is homemade pretzel rolls. They may sound simple, but they are worth the trip. Really, if one went to Kitchen and had nothing by a cocktail and the doughnuts or pretzel rolls, one could be sated...until the call of the carbohydrate rises again...

After I stopped crying my tears of joy over the doughnuts, April had some beautiful oysters on a half shell that I did not partake in and thus forgot to photograph, but then the (other) piece d'resistance: lobster grits.

Bubblin'

Lobster grits may sound simple, but that is the magic of Kitchen: they take beautiful, high quality ingredients and make them live up to their tastiest level. 

Extreme lobster close up

Lobster grits half-consumed and the rest happily packed up, we wandered in the bitter cold through the downtown lights until it was time for the annual Trinity Church Candlelight Carols. Trinity is a beautiful Romanesque church that sits in the center of Boston's Copley Square. Every December, Trinity hosts a carol service for the community. 

View from the balcony

As twilight drains out of the church, the candles are lit and the light spreads throughout every nave and row of the church. The carols represent countries and cultures from around the world, including medieval folk songs and African spirituals. The spectacular surroundings combined with the soaring music of a choir could put anyone in the holiday spirit. 

After the music ended, we re-entered the city to find a pristine dusting of snow.

Our perfect day was complete. Until the next Christmas event...

The March Blues

Winter lasts at least six months of the year in New England. Sometimes it seems like it never actually ends but just goes into hiding only to reappear as soon as your hopes are high. As spring approaches, the worst is the constant tease of warmer weather; we get a foot of a snow and then it’s 50 degrees the next day, then it’s freezing rain and back to the high 40s and sunny. You keep getting your hopes up, only to have them dashed on the cold hard ground and no one knows what to wear (Rain boots? Winter boots? Rain slicker? Down jacket? Both?)

You know the spring is coming but by early March when the snow is still falling regularly, it gets pretty depressing. And the March Blues have definitely taken up full time residence around these parts. Short of relocating, all I can do is keep the blues at bay by any means necessary.

Make cookies

Or cake. Or anything tasty. We recently discovered the wonderment that is “The Great British Bake Off” and have now begun our own baking competition that consists of our own good sense against our own lacking skills. But every so often something comes out beautifully – or at least very tasty - and one just feels so accomplished. Baking aside, coming home after a shitty day and cooking a beautiful meal often salvages the day. Or just go out and let someone else cook for you.

Okay, so I bought it not made it.

Schedule a dream vacation (or at least create an inspiration board about it)

When things aren't going well, it’s important to remember things will change eventually. Even better is to start making exciting plans to look forward to. Pick a weekend to meet up with friends or schedule a mini trip away. Better yet, plan a big summer adventure that you can research and dream about straight through the spring rains. Comparing beaches and resort menus is the best use of your lunch break - besides eating cookies.

Bermuda, Horseshoe Bay

Escape mentally

A good book transports you to another time and place and let’s you be someone different for a few hours. A well-crafted movie or show can do the same with striking images and soaring music. It seems simple enough to turn on the tv or pick up a book, but to truly immerse yourself - put down the smartphone, stop reading the mail, and finish the chores first - into a piece can relax your mind and give you a bit of peace. Pretending you are somewhere - or someone - else for an evening might just distract you from the dreary reality outside your door.

You know you always wanted to be a wizard, admit it

March will come and go and spring will arrive. In the meantime you might as well enjoy yourself, mother nature be damned!

1st Line Submission

I have been trying to get back into the habit of writing regularly (thus this blog) so I've started seeking out literary journals like The First Line . As the name suggests, the premise is that TFL publishes opening lines each season and invites entries that start with it. I submitted an entry for the winter 2012 issue and while my piece was not chosen, I am still pleased to have actually finished and submitted something! So here it is.

Next week: Part II of 2012: A Year in Review and then on to homemade Christmas presents (hopefully!)

Sometimes, when it's quiet, I can remember what my life was like before moving to Cedar Springs.  I find that it is often quiet here, neither to the improvement or detriment of daily life.  Cedar Springs is good at maintaining the careful balance between extremes; no day is too hot or too cold, no celebration too ostentatious or too petty, nothing too big or too small.  Life is as it should be in Cedar Springs.

Everything is pleasant without being over-stimulating; disappointments are gentle letdowns to be expected in modern life.

This has been my home for several weeks, months, years… I no longer keep careful measure.  I have found it peaceful for the most part and that is what they said I needed.

“Peace and quiet and time to rest” was the recommendation.  Cedar Springs was the ideal place.  In the quietest moments, I remember my life before; my ‘last life’.  All there is now is the undulating present of days like the ones that went before and tireless nights following after.

I am lucky.  Every day, I hear this.  Most times some person tells me; sometimes I swear the swaying tree branches or the glass-like river whispers it.  I am lucky, I know that.  I would know that without any reminder, but I have grown not to mind.  Cedar Springs is a place where people are always grateful in a dignified manner and expect others to behave in the same reserved way.  It is different than my last life, but I do not mind.

In the time I’ve been in Cedar Springs, I have walked every street in town.  I have been in all the shops and eaten in all the establishments, fine and otherwise.  I have read every book about Cedar Springs, set in Cedar Springs, written by Cedar Springs.  

Perhaps I will write a book I said suddenly one day, looking up.  “Yes of course you should” the faces around the room said.  ‘That would be nice.’ ‘That would be a great undertaking.’  ‘It could really take you places’ the last voice in the circle said.  I have already come here, I thought.  Where else was there to go?

The loudest voice in the room pierces my thoughts:
“Would your book be about before Cedar Springs or before?”

I looked at him, the first person I met in this town, the man I saw everyday.

“I can’t say until I start writing.”

The next day he handed me a blank notebook.
“I think we’ve gotten enough done today. Take the rest of the day off and go write. I’m excited to read your book.” he said, smiling.

I plunged through the double doors into the cold outside.  I could walk home from here, to the grocery store, the pharmacy; everything was close in Cedar Springs.  I had known it’s every avenue, street, and park within a few hours of moving here.  I think I know these streets better than I know myself.

I walked the long way home, stopping from time to time to jot down observations, poetic descriptions, dainty enough strings of words.  I wandered down streets I had seen a hundred times before and tried to look at them anew.  The sky stretched for miles overhead and the ground below yielded to its reach.  The sky in Cedar Springs was the same sky I had looked up to every other day of my life.  It was all the same.

Snow began to fall as if it had been planned.   The day had drawn to an end and the wind had grown colder, and so the snow fell.  I thought of the last time I walked in the drifting snow, before Cedar Springs and I could barely recall what had come before.