On Wednesday I posted a total of 21 photos to Instagram.
That’s way more than I’d usually post in a single day, lest I alienate every one of the folks who see my photos – except perhaps my mother. (Though even she would probably tell me to give it a rest.) But I was participating in Laura’s annual #OneDayHH project.
Laura’s point is that we often share the pretty details of our days on Instagram – the new haircut, the fabulous shoes, the fun night out with friends. But we don’t often snap and share the mundane stuff: the commute, the sinkful of dirty dishes, the to-do list. These details are just as much a part of our lives as the exciting or lovely things. So #OneDayHH is a chance to share all of it – the good, the frustrating, the quotidian.
I confess I didn’t snap every detail of my day – the search for a missing FedEx package, the moment when my umbrella turned inside out (impossible to photograph, for several reasons), the mad dash to bring my patio plants inside as the wind and rain kicked up. But I did manage a fair number of shots, and I thought I’d share them here, as a snapshot (ha) of a fairly typical day.
The morning began, as nearly all my mornings do, with the snooze button, a hot shower and my red teakettle.
It whistled and I poured a cup of David’s pumpkin chai, to drink with a blueberry muffin and a little light breakfast reading. (The grey morning prompted me to turn on the twinkle lights, which you can see reflected in my old mug from the Ground Floor.)
My commute includes a two-block walk to the subway station, then waiting on the outdoor platform with a book. (Current read: Her Brilliant Career.)
Once I got off the T, in Harvard Square, this was the view on my (rainy, chilly) walk to work.
As an antidote to the gray day, I wore a pink dress, a cozy striped scarf (a birthday present from my sister), and the black, slightly trapezoidal knit jacket that makes me feel like Mary Tyler Moore.
After eating, I headed out to stretch my legs and try on a few sale items at Anthropologie. (I struck out, but it was fun to play dress-up.)
Later, I visited Tealuxe for a hot, spicy cup of chaider (my first this season) and the first entry in a new journal.
I snapped a photo of my red wellies to serve as a weather report.
The afternoon called for lots of data entry, but I munched on a crisp Empire apple and listened to my favorite podcast.
I caught the Red Line home, as usual. Not glamorous, but convenient.
Earlier that day, the hubs had tossed the ingredients for chicken tikka masala into the slow cooker. It was ready when I got home (soaked and miserable), and it was delicious.
After dinner, J left for an evening meeting and I curled up on the sofa and talked to my parents for a while. (They live in Texas. I saw them in July, but I miss them.)
It was a raw, chilly night, which called for some baking.
And later, some serious dishwashing.
We ate the last of the cookie dough with spoons…
…while catching up on the New York Times crossword. (The hubs: “What’s this Instagram thing you’re doing?”)
It was blowing a gale outside, so the TV reception was spotty, but we found Game 2 of the World Series online. The hubs dug out the Royals hat he bought while working in Kansas City in the summer of 2005.
The day ended with a little bedtime reading. (Oh, Anne. How I love you.)
Besides sharing my own posts, it was fun to peek at the hashtag stream during the day and see everyone else’s photos. There’s something both entertaining and life-giving about sharing the details of our ordinary days. It reminded me of Natalie Goldberg’s “holy yes” – the work of a writer, and of a human being.
Laura’s making this an annual tradition, and I can’t wait to do it again. It reminds me of what blogging used to be – a simple sharing of the dailiness of our lives. No matter where we live, we are all in this together. And it’s messy and rough-edged and beautiful.