What a year. It is hygge season once more, which for me means writing and reading by candlelight as well as organizing my expanding range of additional indoor hobbies. Kate K. tipped me off to English Paper Piecing which is the quilting equivalent of a really hard crossword puzzle. I’m trying to resist the urge to buy a hexagonal paper punch. Exciting stuff!
This morning I am surrounded by empty and full boxes, mid move, basking in the glow of my first mortgage. I have my pussy hat on, to show Caper that I am part of the resistance. My blog persists, after I discarded social media and my smart phone, Typing my thoughts in here serves as a lighthearted counterweight to the serious writing I do at work and a long form project I am writing out by hand.
Off to the city- enjoy the changing light of All Saints’ Day.
I have been to more movies this summer than the past five years combined, I think. Although I loved going to the museum of the moving image in our old neighborhood, it was rare that a desirable showing would line up with my schedule. When the new Nitehawk opens, walking distance from my home, I will go weekly.
Last night I watched The B-Sides, a relief from the violence and heavy gender and racial politics of summer blockbusters.
Instead of a solo expedition to the Appalachian trail, I brought my spouse and stayed in the national park in Brooklyn. There were birds, bugs, a dirt bike rally, party boats on the bay and we slept in a tent. In addition to cheffing, Nick was my personal bicycle support service after my tube popped in Sheepshead Bay. Barely slowed us down.
I was awestruck by the dawn chorus of birds singing and using my rudimentary skills I heard and then spotted the Eastern Towhee, which had alluded me in Prospect Park this spring. Where are the photos, you ask? I didn’t bring my camera. Too much equipment to keep track of when packing for a trip with multiple goals – camping, cooking, biking, birding, and the beach.
Second only to the dawn chorus is the thrill of arriving at Jacob Riis Beach before 8:30 in the morning. We staked out the best spot and set up our tent for shade. I saw my first American Oystercatchers and the elegant Terns (common, I think) fishing in the surf. Unfortunately I had just read an article about Coney Island water quality and was therefore not swimming, but the breeze and sound of the surf did their soothing work.
Once the beach started filling up around 11:30 it was time to eat two tacos and bike home. By three we were showered and napping in our own bed.
I am eating peanut butter and leftover marshmallows on hotdog buns for all meals until they run out.