Gettin' My Fix - Stitchfix #14

I really think Ja'nae just gets me. My last fix was on point and this was one also delivered. I had specifically requested some dark wash slightly bootcut jeans as well as a silver pendant necklace. Both pieces were included, but I ended up returning them. I tried the jeans first, excited to see that they were Kut from the Kloth, a denim brand I have had good luck with. However, they were too short and too boot-cut for my taste. In the short time I wore them, they also stretched, sagging around the waist. But I really liked the lighter wash and plan to look for some similar skinny jeans at TJ Maxx.

The oatmeal colored sleeveless top with lace trim by Loveappela was super cute...totally my type of thing, but it wasn't flattering. Kind of blah. And the pendant necklace was cheap looking and a bit too bulky to be something I'd wear often. Three strikes!

Then I pulled the Market & Spruce Henley Style Stop out of the box. Yum! A bold navy and white checked pattern, a flattering pleat in the back, and soft flowy material made this an instant favorite. I put it on and knew it was a keeper. I debated a bit longer about the navy linen blazer from Skies Are Blue. I really liked it, but wasn't sure if I had enough complimentary pieces. I tried it a few ways and realized it would be great over dresses for all of my business meetings (hahaha) or more casually paired with gray, white, or regular jeans. I don't have any other blazers and really liked the way it fit. Keeper!

While I only purchased two items, this latest Fix really hit the nail on the head. I made sure to relay that in the feedback survey, which is a helpful way of sharing why certain things worked and others didn't, hopefully making the next shipment even better. 

Making Stuff

A few months ago my mom texted me that she was having trouble shopping for new living room furniture. She purchased a coffee table and chair, but when they were delivered, she realized they were wrong for the room, overwhelming in size and not a good match in the light, warm, and antique-y living room. Around the same time, Simon and I took a brief trip to Burlington so he and Sille could ski. Pete and I were left without anything to do and realized that we could help out mom by making a coffee table.

Make a coffee table?! I had absolutely no clue where to start. My brother has a studio/workshop not far from his place in Burlington so we were set with a spot to do the work. He is also, um, slightly smart and knowledgeable about making things. Me? Not so much. I've never constructed anything before so it was all new territory, and I was nervous that I would be useless as he did everything. 

We thought we could refurbish something for less money than than purchasing all new wood. We were in luck when we spotted this old piece at the antique shop next to Pete's studio. I impressed Pete with my negotiating skills and we got the table for $75.

Pete has an eye for this stuff and knew what was lurking under the surface. He set me to work with a power sander as he tore apart the rest of the table. It was amazing what a little elbow grease and power tools could do. The boards emerged as smooth, richly grained pieces and we began to conceptualize how we could reassemble it. When it became clear it was going to be a lighter, simpler piece we knew the existing legs (that I had also sanded...) wouldn't work. Back to the antique shop, where we found some awesome mid-century inspired legs. Pete set to work with the engineering aspect of things and I kept sanding. I know my limits.

It was a full day's work, but it was one of the best days I've spent in awhile. The before and after is pretty remarkable, and I loved the feeling of creating something. While I didn't operate a saw or come up with any of the solutions for getting the thing to actually stand up, I felt helpful. Like we were a team. As you can see, Merwin was a critical member of that team. There's always one who doesn't do anything during the group project but still gets the A.

Quick Trip To 'Cuse

We headed over to Syracuse this weekend to spend some QT with my parents, brother, and sister-in-law. On Saturday, my mom and aunt hosted a bridal shower for my cousin so I helped while the others did a bunch of work in the yard. On Sunday, I joined them. It was finally above freezing with bright sun so it was heavenly to be outside. Simon got an excellent chain sawing lesson from Pete, the first vegetables went into the garden (peas), and we rid the yard of most of the branches that had fallen throughout the winter.

It was like a breath of fresh air to be with my family, spend time outside in the sunshine, and have a little bit of good news about the doggy. Late last week, we learned that Merwin's cancer is more similar to a slower-acting, indolent lymphoma, meaning it's not a large-cell super aggressive type and hopefully has a much better prognosis. We'll treat him with some less intense drugs from home and see where it goes, but it was a sigh of relief for sure. A huge one. 

It seemed like the dog felt it too. He tore around that yard like it was his job. Outside all day every day, romping across the fields, chasing his ball, tracking scents, and rampaging through the woods. I really do think this is his favorite place in the world and it was wonderful to see him so active and vibrant. It was peaceful. Right, Dad?

A Poem For A Tuesday

To Daffodils
Robert Herrick

Fair Daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not yet attain'd his noon.
Stay, stay,
Until the hasting day
Has run
But to the even-song;
And, having pray'd together, we
Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you,
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you, or anything.
We die
As your hours do, and dry
Away,
Like to the summer's rain;
Or as the pearls of morning's dew,
Ne'er to be found again.

I forced Simon to read this poem because I found it both timely (daffodils at the lake were emerging) and amazing (for myriad reasons). Great word, "myriad." Anyway, Simon obeyed and said, "I read it as equating human existence to being short in the span of life as daffodils are to spring. Is that the wrong interpretation?" I think it's a spectacular interpretation. In the first stanza, the narrator describes his desire for the daffodils to survive a bit longer into the spring. Slowly the stanza starts to bring humans into the picture with "having pray'd together, we / Will go with you along." Then the second stanza makes it clear that the narrator is comparing the daffodils' brief existence to our own little blips of life. We grow to meet decay and our hours, our time here, slowly dry away like a summer rain or morning dew, each drop or each life unique but never to return. Naturally though, the daffodils return the next year...I wonder how that fits in.

It's intense. A poem I initially imagined would be about bright yellow daffodils breaking up the winter gloom turns into a statement on their short life span, and ours right along with them. Dark, but also perfectly practical. It's true. We're here. We're gone. Pretty standard fact.

More than his interpretation though, I was intrigued by Simon asking if it was wrong. I think this is one of the most challenging things about poetry, or ballet, or modern dance, or visual art, or music. The notion that there is a "right" thing to feel or understand after viewing it. Sure, the artist or poet or choreographer likely has an intention when they create a piece. Maybe some driving thing they want to express, but that doesn't mean any differing interpretation is "wrong." Nothing can be right or wrong when it comes to understanding art. It's not arithmetic. You can't prove any one interpretation is any more or less "correct" than another. There is no answer. That's the beauty of it and why we need art. It inspires people to imagine, create, and think in response. To know what's it's like for something not to be A or B but somewhere between. To live in that space where there is beauty in the varied palette of interpretations. Where people talk to each other about what they think without  being entrenched in what they view as "right" or "wrong." You know, like basically everything else in our country right now.

We need more art.

A Moment North

We last visited our little lake cottage back in early November. Needless to say, it has been awhile. Despite the combo platter of rain, freezing drizzle, and snow, we headed north yesterday to check on the house and take stock of what's needed to whip it back into visitor-ready status.

Aside from a downed tree leaning precariously at the end of the driveway, there was nothing too eventful in our findings. Signs of mouse activity in the loft, but that's relatively common and tough to avoid when we abandon ship for 5 months. 

There was a slight dusting of snow from the day's precipitation and one spot under the deck where some built up ice was still in the process of melting, but otherwise the pond was thawed and signs of winter were fading. The loon was happily diving in the chilly water and the daffodils were poking through the dirt. Sure signs of spring! We gathered laundry, made lists of tasks and supplies, then drove back to Portsmouth. We'll be back. 

Spending Time With This Guy

Ever since Merwin's cancer diagnosis, it has been harder to leave him home alone. I want to be with him, savor what it is like for the two of us to occupy the same space, go on long walks together, and just be. I'm grateful I'm not commuting long distances daily and have the flexibility to spend so much time with him. 

Thus far, the chemo hasn't been effective in reducing the cancer cells in his lymph nodes. The most commonly used lymphoma-fighting strategy, CHOP, involves four drugs and a series of treatments over 15 weeks. We got through three of those drugs with absolutely no side effects but also no discernible reduction in the disease. So we're waiting for test results that will tell us a bit more about the specific type of cancer he has, his prognosis, and where we go from here. 

While we wait, I'm having a hard time leaving the house. It seems a bit pathetic, but it's how I feel. Granted, he hates when we're not home and suffered through severe separation anxiety for years, but this is about wanting to maximize whatever time I have left with the little guy. Even if it's just moments that he's dozing in a sun patch and I'm doing laundry in the other room. His presence is punctuated by tiny movements, sighs, and paws clicking across the floor, a little symphony of companionship. But more than that, and it's hard to explain, I feel him in the background, a constant presence that fills this place with his little spirit. Merwin, and all the doggies, are always just there, steadfast in their willingness to give everything to the ones they love. 

Just A Little Moment

Downward dog?

A Poem For A Wednesday

April in Maine
May Sarton

The days are cold and brown,
Brown fields, no sign of green,
Brown twigs, not even swelling,
And dirty snow in the woods.

But as the dark flows in
The tree frogs begin
Their shrill sweet singing,
And we lie on our beds
Through the ecstatic night,
Wide awake, cracked open.

There will be no going back.

Fine, it's April in New Hampshire, but Maine is just next door and I feel like this poem captures the general gist of right now. All I see out the window is brown gloom. Two squirrels are chasing each other higher and higher into a tree but the branches are a dull brown and the squirrels are an even duller brown. I've never seen a squirrel as high in a tree as this idiot, by the way.

Anyway, my brain tells me that April is always full of sun, spring, warmth, and hope but in reality, it's generally rainy, cool, and brown. But then it suddenly seems to crack open and the air changes, the mood lightens, and breezes have a barely perceptible underlying warmth. Spring joins us. It just joins us a bit later here than in other places. I'll wait.