Winter weekend in NYC

Recently, J and I hopped down to New York for a long weekend. I didn’t visit the city for the first time until about three years ago, and I find it endlessly alluring, no matter the season. It’s fast-paced, but there are pockets of quiet even in such a teeming metropolis. And there are a seemingly infinite number of historical landmarks, dazzling theatrical shows, delicious restaurants, fascinating bookstores, charming cafes…the list goes on and on.

We rented a lovely little third-floor walk-up apartment in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, complete with wee kitchenette (and teakettle!):

On our first evening, we wandered the neighborhood and visited, among other spots, the Greenlight Bookstore – a light-filled space packed with fascinating books of all genres. (I snagged Ruta Sepetys’ new novel, Out of the Easy – wonderful young adult fiction set in 1950s New Orleans.)

After some (rather disappointing) Italian food, we headed to the Chocolate Room in Park Slope, because chocolate cures many ills:

That’s a delectable brownie sundae, and we both ordered hot chocolate to go with it.

Warm and woozy from our dessert coma, we headed back to the flat and fell asleep.

The next day, we did a “vertical tour” at the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine, in Morningside Heights near Columbia. Madeleine L’Engle, my heroine, was the librarian there for many years, and I’ve always wanted to see it.

We walked up (and up and up) a staircase that took us to the top of a buttress, eye-level with gorgeous stained-glass windows, and eventually up to the roof:

After a stroll through Columbia’s campus, we settled on lunch at Deluxe, which we finished by splitting a strawberry milkshake:

We then headed down to the Upper West Side, popping into Book Culture on West 112th on the way:

A chill wind and tired feet led us to stop for tea and a muffin at Arte Around the Corner:

Refueled, we wandered over to the Museum of American Folk Art near Lincoln Center (a fun, quirky little find), then ate some delicious Indian food on the West Side and bought a few Insomnia Cookies to take back to the flat.

Sunday morning found us wandering the Brooklyn Flea, housed for the winter in the beautiful old Williamsburg Savings Bank building:

Then we met our friends Duncan and Allison for brunch at Whym in the West Fifties. This was my choice – mixed-berry stuffed French toast, with raspberry curd. Heaven.

We spent the afternoon seeing The Mystery of Edwin Drood, a hilarious musical adaptation of an unfinished Dickens murder mystery. The audience gets to vote for the killer! Campy and fun, in the style of Clue. Afterward, we headed to The Little Pie Company for fresh berry pie and tall cups of tea.

The wind had kicked up by then – it was too cold to walk around, but we weren’t hungry for dinner yet. Allison suggested the Harry Potter exhibit at the Discovery Center in Times Square. It’s a little pricey, but such fun for Harry Potter nerds – it showcases props and costumes from the Potter films, including Quidditch gear, robes and wands, Hermione’s textbooks, several Horcruxes, and a huge glass case of sweets from Honeydukes and Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

We shivered our way down to Don Giovanni’s for some yummy pizza, a glass of sangria, and some truly delectable chicken noodle soup, with spinach and tomatoes. Perfect for the bitter weather.

Our bus left on Monday afternoon, so we spent a leisurely morning strolling Park Slope (popping into cafes for tea when it got too cold). An utterly charming New York weekend. (Though I hope the weather’s warmer next time I go.)

What are your favorite NYC spots, if you’ve been there?

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A new neighborhood

For almost exactly two years, I have worked in downtown Boston, across from the two green spaces that are the beating heart of this city. I climb up out of the subway station in the morning to the tune of the church bells at Park Street (if I time it just right), and I walk across the Common with a mixture of students, dog walkers, businesspeople, morning runners, even homeless people. I watch the trees bud and bloom and leaf out, and in the fall I pick up red leaves and put them in my pocket, and take photos of the glorious spread of color.

I spend many of my lunch breaks roaming the Public Garden, smiling at the ducklings (both the statuary and live versions), or browsing the indoor shelves and outdoor carts at Brattle Book Shop. I have a bank branch, a post office, a favorite Starbucks, a favorite local coffee shop. I can direct you to three used bookstores, several consignment shops, a dozen cafes. When it’s warm outside, I walk down to the farmer’s market every Tuesday and most Fridays.

Next week, though, I’m trading all that for a new neighborhood, when I start a new job at Harvard.

Instead of getting off the Red Line as it rumbles under the Common, I’ll ride it across the river, to the beating heart of Harvard Square. I’ll trade the Common and the Public Garden for Harvard Yard and Cambridge Common. I’ll walk down Brattle Street every morning instead of Boylston Street, pop into Tealuxe for a cuppa instead of Thinking Cup, eat tomato soup at Crema Cafe instead of Panera. The Harvard Book Store and the Grolier Poetry Book Shop will stand in for the Brattle and Commonwealth Books.

As a newcomer to Boston, I’ve been thrilled by the chance to work down here in the heart of it all, to learn the rhythms of this new city by spending my days in its very center. But I’m also excited to be learning a new neighborhood, absorbing a different vibe. Harvard Square and I are already acquaintances, but we’re going to be good friends.

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29 things before I turn 30, update #2

Every year I make a list of things to do before my next birthday, from the fun to the profound, and post periodic updates. Items completed are crossed off; items begun are starred.*

1. Go back to Europe. Specifically Oxford (where I used to live).
2. Read or donate at least half the books I own that I’ve not yet read.* (Working on it, though the stacks grow constantly.)
3. Go back to the Glen Workshop.* (Signed up and making plans.)
4. Visit my loved ones in Abilene. (Loved being there over Christmas.)
5. Finish a draft of that memoir I keep talking about.
6. Pay off my student loans.* (Nearly there…)
7. Go apple picking for the third time. (It was glorious.)
8. Visit a place I’ve never been. (Newport, RI)
9. Read 10 new-to-me classics of any genre.* So far, I’ve read seven.
10. Participate in a cooking challenge with fellow Shelf Awareness reviewers. (Read all about it!)
11. Visit New York in the fall. (A weekend full of wonder.)
12. Cuddle that sweet nephew of mine a lot.* (Made a good start over Christmas, and planning to go back in March.)
13. Conquer the snooze button.*
14. Knit a few beautiful things.*
15. Go to the dentist.
16. Visit Canada, as we’re only a few hours away. (Making plans.)
17. Reach out to two friends every week.* (Continuing to do this.)
18. Reread the Mother-Daughter Book Club series. See my post about these books.
19. Take a vacation with friends.
20. Try 2 or more new recipes a month.*
21. Develop a steady, focused routine for my workdays: less frantic multitasking.*
22. Reimagine our cluttered guest room.* Lots of filing and clearing out over New Year’s.
23. Invest in sturdy, chic black flats.
24. Eat at the food truck on the Common. Love their breakfast granola, apple cider and rosemary fries.
25. Get a pedicure.
26. Invite friends over at least once a month.* Most recently, for four birthdays.
27. Write half a dozen more essays.* (See my second piece at Art House America.)
28. Order myself a new “brave” necklace.
29. Savor the last year of my twenties.*

What lists are you working on lately?

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January reading roundup #2

The Dirty Life: A Memoir of Farming, Food, and Love, Kristin Kimball
Kristin Kimball was a total New York City girl, until she fell in love with a handsome, charming, exasperating farmer. This is the story of their first year running a farm in upstate New York, when everything could (and did) go wrong. Despite the trials (and the dirt), Kimball fell deeply in love with her new life and work. She writes beautifully about that year’s triumphs and griefs, about finding new reserves of strength in herself, about struggling forward each day. Lovely and wise.

Alice I Have Been, Melanie Benjamin
I loved Benjamin’s latest, The Aviator’s Wife, so I picked up this novel narrated by Alice Liddell, the original Alice in Wonderland. Benjamin explores Alice’s childhood and her (rather fraught) relationship with Charles Dodgson (Lewis Carroll). I am not an Alice in Wonderland fan; I find the story confusing and creepy. But I enjoyed the descriptions of Oxford in the 1860s/1870s, and I found Alice herself a complex, intriguing character. Benjamin also details Alice’s later life, about which I knew virtually nothing, and which I found fascinating and heartbreaking. A gripping (if at times uncomfortable) story of an unusual woman.

The Inklings: C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Charles Williams, and Their Friends, Humphrey Carpenter
I’m fascinated by the Inklings and enjoyed this “group biography,” meticulously researched and detailed. Because I recently read a new C.S. Lewis biography, the first part (about him) was repetitive for me, but I learned a great deal about Charles Williams, and about the group’s evolution over the years. (It saddens me that it eventually dropped off.) Carpenter’s fictional re-creation of an Inklings meeting, drawn from diaries and letters, is particularly spirited and fun.

The Plain Old Man, Charlotte MacLeod
I needed something light after Alice I Have Been, so picked up this sixth Sarah Kelling mystery. Sarah gets roped into painting both scenery and faces for her Aunt Emma’s community theatre production. All is well until an heirloom painting disappears and a cast member turns up dead. This story started slowly, but the pace picked up later and the eventual solution was clever. Part mystery, part comedy of errors, part wacky family story (as always). Good fun.

The God of the Hive, Laurie R. King
Sherlock Holmes and Mary Russell’s tenth adventure finds them separated and on the run, from enemies known and unknown. Russell lands in a forest at a hermit’s cabin, while Holmes makes for Holland with his injured son. After resting and regrouping (and some great use of the Times agony column), they head for London and a confrontation with their foe. Fast-paced, with (thank heaven) more moments of levity than The Language of Bees. I was pleased at the return of Holmes’ bolt-holes around London and his well-known deductive reasoning. Lots of fun.

This post contains IndieBound affiliate links.

What are you reading lately?

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In 2012 I have…

• survived my second (thankfully milder than the first) Boston winter.
• admitted that, to survive my third such winter, a light box and Vitamin D pills will be helpful tools.
• read nearly 300 books – a personal record. (Yes, I am fast. No, I don’t “speed read.” Yes, I spend a LOT of time reading.)
• lost a grandmother and a cousin, and grieved.
• flown to Texas three times to visit my family.
• become an aunt twice over, to Ryder and then to Annalynn.
• taken J to D.C., shown him the monuments and museums I love, and discovered some new places there with him.
• spent two wonderful long weekends (one frigid, one fall-ish) in New York City.
• drunk SO many cups of tea.
• taken countless lunchtime walks.
• filled up six and a half journals.
• overslept a LOT of mornings.
• had my soul fed, my heart uplifted and my intellect challenged at the Glen Workshop.
• gained about 10 pounds. (Which I’d like to lose in 2013.)
• attended my 10th high school reunion, and marveled at the ways my classmates and I have grown into ourselves since 2002.
• kept up a pen-and-paper correspondence with the lovely Jaclyn (who also hosted us in D.C.).
• driven to the wilds of Maine for a super-fun wedding.
• kept showing up for my day job, even when I did not feel like it.
• continued to work as a freelance for my beloved alma mater.
• taken on extra responsibilities at church.
• realized why church work is sometimes thankless and sometimes deeply rewarding.
• missed my family, and faraway friends, deeply.
• welcomed my sweet college roomie and her husband for a visit to Boston.
• paid down a LARGE percentage of the balance on my student loans.
• written 170-ish blog posts (and hit the milestone of 1,000 posts).
• tweeted probably more than was strictly necessary. (But it’s so much fun.)
• joined a networking group for bookish folks.
• celebrated my third Turkeypalooza.
• knitted 6 hats (4 adult, 2 baby), 4 baby sweaters, 2 pairs of booties, 2 cowls, 3 mini sweaters, 1 pair of leg warmers, 1 sunglasses case, 2 pairs of fingerless gloves, and 42 wee hats for smoothie bottles.
• fallen head over heels for Lark Rise to Candleford, finished watching Mary Tyler Moore, and continued my love affair with Castle.
• reviewed more than 40 books for Shelf Awareness.
• met a dozen or more online friends in person.
• become part of a book club.
• visited Vermont, Newport (R.I.) and western MA.
• found a question I keep asking over and over.
• celebrated my fourth wedding anniversary.
• relished a rain-soaked, hilarious, memorable 4th of July.
• soaked up all I could of the London Olympics.
• reflected on two years in Boston.
• struggled at times to make this life fit.
• talked about the future with J.
• fallen in love with a slew of new-to-me detectives, including Mary Russell, Tommy & Tuppence, Sarah Kelling, Chet and Bernie, Bess Crawford, and the Spellmans. (This has been a year for mysteries.)
• seen both The Lion King and The Fantasticks on Broadway.
• spent many Tuesday evenings sipping tea with girlfriends.
• wondered what is next.

I wrote a post like this last year, and it was so thought-provoking I decided to do it again. It’s amazing to look back over a year and see what’s happened, and what I have made happen.

What have you done, experienced, read, accomplished in 2012?

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My Favorite Books of 2012

I devour the “best of” book lists that abound this time of year, the critics and the reviewers and the book bloggers all gushing about books that blew them away, lavishing praise instead of cynicism and pleading, “Read this!”

It’s tough to winnow my favorites from the nearly 300 (!) books I read this year, but I did want to share the brightest gems with you. Not all these books were published in 2012, but I read them all (except Best Reread) for the first time in 2012.

Best Crime-Solving Couples: Sherlock Holmes and Mary Russell, with their brilliant repartee, deductive genius and deep love for one another. And Agatha Christie’s duo Tommy and Tuppence, who are witty and sparkling and also rather good at solving mysteries.

Best Relatively Unknown Historical Novel: The Time in Between by Maria Duenas, with its brave protagonist Sira Quiroga, seamstress and spy in Morocco during the Spanish Civil War and the lead-up to World War II. Plenty of action, lush description, love and heartbreak and political tension. But it hasn’t been as widely hailed as I’d hoped. (Read it!)

Best Return to a Favorite Fictional Place: Joanne Harris took us back to the French village of Lansquenet (of Chocolat fame) in Peaches for Father Francis, and I loved every minute.

Best Reread: The Harry Potter series. It is almost impossible to overstate my love for these books. So I will simply beg you: Read them, if you haven’t already.

Most Delicious Memoir: My Berlin Kitchen by Luisa Weiss. A charming, yummy tale of Berlin and New York and Boston, of family and broken hearts and finding your way home again. (And cooking.) Made me want to be her best friend.

Most Haunting Contemporary Novel: The Unfinished Work of Elizabeth D. by Nichole Bernier. I read this book in June, and I am still thinking about Elizabeth and her friend Kate, who inherits Elizabeth’s journals after her death and starts to wonder how well she really knew her friend. Powerful and thought-provoking.

Best Book on Faith: An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor. It has left me trying to determine, again and again, what is saving my life right now. (If the answer is “I don’t know,” I know I need to pay more attention.)

Best Poetry Collection: Thirst, by Mary Oliver. As I was reading this, I read most of the poems at least twice. “Messenger” has been resonating in my head for weeks.

Best Catnip for Anglophiles: Mrs Queen Takes the Train by William Kuhn, a wise, charming and often funny tale of Queen Elizabeth going on a quite unusual journey.

Best Peek Into Someone Else’s Letters: The wise, keenly observant and often self-deprecating letters of E.B. White.

Best Biography of a Strong-Willed Woman: Dearie: The Remarkable Life of Julia Child by Bob Spitz. Julia was larger than life, literally and figuratively, and Spitz’s portrait of her is fascinating.

Best Classic I Can’t Believe I Never Read Before: Emma by Jane Austen. I’d seen the film, but it pales in comparison to the wit and brilliance of the novel. I wasn’t sure I would like Emma herself, but I ended up loving her.

Best Book My Husband Stole Before I Even Read It: After Mandela by Douglas Foster. A multi-layered, absorbing, often unsettling look at post-apartheid life in South Africa.

Coziest Fictional Village: Fairacre. (I discovered Miss Read long ago, but I read 16 of her Fairacre books this year. Obsessed? Maybe a little.)

Best Book Written for Teenagers: The Wednesday Wars by Gary D. Schmidt, which made me laugh and cry and remember how difficult and wonderful life can be when you’re 14.

Craziest Fictional Family: Undoubtedly the Spellmans, Lisa Lutz’s family of private eyes who spend most of their spare time (and some of their on-the-job time) spying on each other.

Your turn. What are your favorite books from this year?

(I’m signing off for the next week to spend some time with my family. Merry Christmas!)

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Do you have any peppermint?

When I moved back to Oxford to spend a year earning my master’s degree, I shared a wee house in East Oxford with three English girls.

One of my new housemates, Lizzie, worked at Starbucks. In fact, the first time I met her, to introduce myself and pick up my house key, was at Starbucks on the High Street in central Oxford. I sipped nervously at a raspberry smoothie, studying the blue-eyed girl across from me, hoping she wouldn’t regret opening her home to an unknown American she’d met via Facebook.

Before long, Lizzie transferred to a new Starbucks shop in Headington, up the hill from our house. Despite my preference for independent cafes, I dropped by occasionally when she was on shift. I am not a coffee drinker, and I don’t particularly care for Starbucks teas (my usual drink of choice there is a chai latte). But in early December, I was hankering for a peppermint hot chocolate, so I stopped in and ordered one.

The girl at the counter, one of Lizzie’s co-workers, stared at me in confusion. “We don’t have any peppermint,” she said.

I frowned. Surely she was mistaken? Even across the Atlantic, the red cups and red aprons had come out in November, and the board behind her touted various holiday drinks. And I knew from my own time as a barista that many cafes keep peppermint syrup on hand year-round. No peppermint? At all?

I shrugged. Perhaps they were out. “I’d like a regular hot chocolate, then.”

A few minutes later, Lizzie came over to the table where I sat, sipping my non-minty drink, and I told her they’d better order some peppermint, since the holidays were approaching quickly.

She stared at me with the same look her co-worker had worn.

“No peppermint? She’s mad! We must have a whole case of it in the back room!”

After another second or two, we both burst out laughing.

The next week, when I dropped by and ordered a minty hot chocolate, Lizzie stared at me with a straight face, her blue eyes dancing. “We don’t have any peppermint,” she said.

As her co-worker (a different one this time) stared at her as though she’d gone mad, we both cracked up again.

It’s been five years, but every time I order a peppermint hot chocolate, I think of Lizzie, and smile.

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November books, part 3

Listening for Madeleine: A Portrait of Madeleine L’Engle in Many Voices, Leonard S. Marcus
I wrote my master’s thesis on Madeleine’s memoirs, with nods to A Wrinkle in Time and its sequels. So I found this collection of 50 interviews, with Madeleine’s family, colleagues, students and friends, fascinating. Some people praise her to the skies, while others seem determined to prove she had feet of clay. While Madeleine was wise and brilliant, she was no saint: she could be stubborn and demanding. Recommended for fellow L’Engle fans.

Excellent Women, Barbara Pym
Mildred Lathbury, thirtyish English spinster, meets her new neighbors (a rather eccentric, glamorous couple) and gets drawn into their marital troubles. Meanwhile, she provides comfort, a listening ear and cups of tea to various friends (all of whom assume she has “nothing better to do” since she’s single). Some amusing moments, but overall I found the story rather dull. Set in the same era as Miss Read’s tales, but not nearly as much fun.

The Not-So-Star-Spangled Life of Sunita Sen, Mitali Perkins
When Sunita’s grandparents come to visit from India, she struggles to reconcile her family’s traditional roots with her modern, California teenage life. (Mitali is herself an Indian transplant to the U.S.) I loved Sunita’s wise grandfather, Dadu, and her straight-talking best friend Liz, though Sunita came off a bit bratty sometimes. A sweet, thoughtful exploration of feeling caught between two cultures.

Renegade Magic, Stephanie Burgis
Kat Stephenson, 12-year-old Regency-era magical Guardian, returns. After Kat’s enemy Lady Fotherington nearly ruins her oldest sister’s wedding, Kat’s stepmother packs the family off to Bath, hoping to find a fiance for Kat’s other sister before any scandal can leak out. But Kat senses “wild magic” in the air around the Baths, and both her new friend Lucy and her foolish brother Charles get caught up in a dangerous game. I like Kat’s spunk, though her magic is not very well explained. Still an enjoyable story. (Second in a trilogy.)

The House on Willow Street, Cathy Kelly
In the tiny Irish town of Avalon, four women – sisters Tess and Suki, postmistress Danae, and Danae’s niece Mara – help one another navigate personal crossroads. Tess’ marriage and antique shop are both struggling; Suki is fleeing a dirt-digging biographer; Mara is healing from a broken heart and Danae wonders if it’s time to tell the secret she’s kept for 18 years. A heartwarming story with charming small-town characters – cozy and hopeful. To review for Shelf Awareness (out Jan. 8).

On the Map: A Mind-Expanding Exploration of the Way the World Looks, Simon Garfield
I love maps, and I found Garfield’s book utterly fascinating. He covers ancient maps (as much theology as geography), the age of exploration, the American Civil War, polar voyages, traveling by map in the movies (from Casablanca to The Muppets), GPS, guidebooks, even mapping the brain. Crammed with interesting facts, but written in a witty, compelling style. Garfield also muses on how maps reflect our perceptions of ourselves, and our quest to find our place in the world.

House of Light, Mary Oliver
I love Oliver’s work, and enjoyed this slim collection of quiet, luminous poems. It contains “The Summer Day,” which I already adored, but I found some new gems, including the end of “The Ponds”: “Still, what I want in my life / is to be willing / to be dazzled.” Lovely and honest scenes from nature, and musings on our “place in the family of things.”

The Lost Art of Mixing, Erica Bauermeister
A gorgeous sequel to The School of Essential Ingredients (which I adored), about chef Lillian and the people whose lives intertwine at her restaurant. Sous chef Chloe and dishwasher Finnegan are both healing from heartbreak of different kinds; Isabelle is struggling against memory loss; accountant Al takes refuge in numbers as his marriage falls apart; and Lillian herself faces a new, unexpected challenge. Luminous writing, and characters I wanted to meet. To review for Shelf Awareness (out Jan. 24).

Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury
I’d never read this classic, and finished it in a day. An odd, dark, yet hopeful story of censorship, war and preserving the written word against all odds. I didn’t connect deeply with any of the characters, but the message is powerful (and oddly prescient, considering it was written in the 1950s). Not a favorite, but I’m glad I read it.

What are you reading lately?

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Do not be afraid.

Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.

―Frederick Buechner

Lindsey tweeted this quote the other day, and I’ve been thinking about the deep truth of it, the “both-and” nature of our lives, where joy and grief are the only guarantees. We don’t get to choose the timing of either, the ways in which they will come, or the ratio of joy to pain. We only know we will encounter deep darkness, dazzling light, and many ordinary days in between. The challenge, as we walk through the glory and the heartache, is this: Don’t be afraid.

This year has been full of beautiful things: the births of my nephew and niece, an idyllic week at the Glen Workshop, trips to Maine and Texas, to New York and D.C., to see people I love. It has also held terrible things: the loss of my grandmother and my cousin, missing faraway loved ones, knowing many people who are struggling against cancer or depression or other ills.

On a more mundane level, each day holds joys and frustrations: lunchtime walks in the park and crowded subway trains, books I treasure and books I toss aside in frustration (fewer of those, thank goodness). It is hard at times not to grow weary or depressed, to remain brave and open, not to be afraid.

I couldn’t come up with a traditional “gratitude” post this year: a list of blessings seemed too facile, oversimplified. Instead I am reading and rereading the W.S. Merwin poem I posted last year, its final lines echoing in my head: “we are saying thank you and waving / dark though it is.”

As I gather tomorrow with my husband and our friends around a table, I will carry Merwin’s and Buechner’s words in my heart. I will give thanks for the beauty, and give thanks for having made it through the struggles. And I will do my best not to be afraid.

If you’re celebrating, I wish you a happy (and delicious) Thanksgiving.

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29 things before I turn 30, update #1

Every year I make a list of things to do before my next birthday, from the fun to the profound. Items completed are crossed off; items begun are starred.*

1. Go back to Europe. Specifically, Oxford (where I used to live).
2. Read or donate at least half the books I own that I’ve not yet read.* (I’ve donated at least a dozen and read about 15.)
3. Go back to the Glen Workshop.* (Signed up and making plans.)
4. Visit my loved ones in Abilene.* (Making plans.)
5. Finish a draft of that memoir I keep talking about.
6. Pay off my student loans.* (Chipping away at ‘em.)
7. Go apple picking for the third time. (It was glorious.)
8. Visit a place I’ve never been. (Newport, RI)
9. Read 10 new-to-me classics of any genre.* So far: O Pioneers, You Come Too (poetry by Robert Frost), Emma, The Hound of the Baskervilles
10. Participate in my first cooking challenge with fellow Shelf Awareness reviewers. (Read all about it!)
11. Visit New York in the fall. It makes me want to buy school supplies… (A weekend full of wonder.)
12. Cuddle that sweet nephew of mine a lot.
13. Conquer the snooze button.
14. Knit a few beautiful things.*
15. Go to the dentist.
16. Visit Canada (we’re only a few hours away).
17. Reach out to two friends every week.* (I’ve made a good beginning.)
18. Reread the Mother-Daughter Book Club series. See my post about these lovely books.
19. Take a vacation with friends.
20. Try 2 or more new recipes a month. *So far: a new ravioli recipe, Peruvian roasted chicken, butternut squash quesadillas, black bean-jalapeno soup, cranberry-walnut cake, roasted honey-glazed carrots, mustard-garlic chicken…
21. Develop a steady, focused routine for my workdays: less frantic multitasking.
22. Reimagine our cluttered guest room.
23. Invest in sturdy, chic black flats.
24. Eat at the food truck on the Common. Love their breakfast granola, apple cider and rosemary fries.
25. Get a pedicure. (I hardly ever do this.)
26. Invite friends over at least once a month.*
27. Write half a dozen more essays, a la my recent Art House America piece.* (Working on it. Look for another one soon.)
28. Order myself a new “brave” necklace. (See above.)
29. Savor the last year of my twenties.*

What lists are you working on lately?

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