Merry Christmas!!!

Merry Christmas from our family to yours!

1 Ollie 'Til Christmas

"Treats, and toys, and bacon, and bones, please." 

2 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The hound decks the halls.

3 Ollies 'Til Christmas

Just a friendly chase with his new buddy Zoey.

4 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The hound works the ice cream stand with his buddy Helen Jane.

5 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The "gee thanks for bringing me out in this" hound.

6 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The cozy dozer takes over MY spot!

7 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The cozy dozer snuggles his own feet. 

8 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The cozy dozer takes over the humans' bed.

9 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The cozy dozer takes over the humans' couch, pillow, and table.

 

10 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The selfie king.

11 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The hit the trails adventure dog hikes with friends, part two.

12 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The hit the trails adventure dog hikes with friends.

13 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The hit the trails adventure hound at the Castle in the Clouds.

14 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The hit the trails adventure hound dashing through the snow.

15 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The hit the trails adventure hound in the White Mountains.

16 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The hit the trails adventure hound on the Cotton Valley Rail Trail.

17 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The nope, that definitely wasn't me hound.

18 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The "I didn't do that either" hound.

19 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The "I didn't do it" hound.

20 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The water body worshipper, Round Pond Series, part four.

21 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The water body worshipper, Round Pond Series (but actually Grest East Lake), part three. 

22 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The water body worshipper, Round Pond series, part two.

23 Ollies 'Til Christmas

The water body worshipper, Piscataqua River.

24 Ollies 'Til Christmas

Well, this is embarrassing. It's the TENTH anniversary of the Christmas Countdown here at Merwin and Merwin. Who knew, all those years ago, that I'd still be doing this a decade later. I guess I probably knew, though I certainly didn't imagine the countdown would feature the charming face of a different pup. But this little crazy, quirky, nutty guy has wormed his way into our hearts (sort of just like Merwin...) and here we are with 24 delightful days of Jolly Ollies awaiting us. In a year marred by downright horribleness, I'm going to savor it. Merry December.

The water body worshipper, Round Pond series, part one.

Covid "Silver" Lining

I've always thought of myself as a little bit of an odd duck. Maybe I'm more "normal" than I think, but I often feel like I don't quite fit the mold of what I'm "supposed" to be. I've always felt that way to some extent...never really found my place in high school, felt torn between different worlds in college, embraced New York but little bits of me seemed to not quite belong, and always felt a little awkward throughout it all. Likely most of it is my head and that's its own thing, but lately I've realized that so much of it was this concept of being obligated to "the norm." Anytime my natural instinct was to do or be something "outside" of that norm, however large or small, I felt weird and conflicted.

Whew, that's a lot, but my point is, during the past few years when I've embraced those "abnormalities," I've found so much happiness. I can point to a few decisions that have led to really great places. Quitting my 9-5 job without a defined path forward? Brightspot emerged, my absolute favorite job ever. After a decade of tortured decision-making, finally deciding to turn my back on becoming a mother? An enormous weight lifted off of me and was replaced with a peaceful confidence that I never imagined I could feel.

And now, the silliest of all (especially amidst everything going on in this world), but somehow more difficult for me than the others. Letting my hair go grey. I started coloring it when I was 28, mostly to avoid any lurking greys during our wedding, but they needed coverage since that moment. When we moved to Portsmouth I switched from semi-permanent to permanent dye and the time between appointments shrank, my hair got super brittle and "orange," and I started to really dread forking over all that cash.

Until the pandemic, I couldn't even fathom letting it go. It felt like a forbidden thing...and even at 40, I was "way too young" to feel like I could have a head of grey hair.

Why? Why not? It's so funny how conforming to this imaginary ideal is so engrained. As the "silver" (I prefer to think of it as silver rather than grey, ha) filled in over the summer, I started to think about it a lot. Who was I dying it for? Was it for me? Or someone else? Sure, it's not as black and white as one of the other, but I landed in a place that helped me realize that this was another one of those things I was sort of blindly doing to not stand out. But in reality, I didn't mind the way the silver emerged, it didn't bother me, so why should I do anything about it?

I finally went back to the salon a couple weeks ago. My stylist was so excited I was growing out my greys and her enthusiasm really sealed the deal (still working on not needing external affirmation in my decisions). She applied a "toner" to the lower parts of my hair to remove some of the orange tinge, we lopped off a couple inches, and I remember being terrified my greys were gone. I feel like I worked hard to grow them out over the last few months...they had become a sort of badge of honor in "going against the grain." Along with that I was growing my confidence in the decision. 

I'm there now. I'm embracing this literal silver lining. (Eeek!)

Into The Woods

As if we weren't already in the woods! But we drove north yesterday for a quick trip into the White Mountains. It seemed to be peak fall foliage there and "we" wanted to get back into that hiking life "we" has briefly embraced while prepping for our 2017 trek in Patagonia. My hesitancy stemmed mostly from an anxiety-laden combination of being massively out of shape, having some sort of lung "damage" from whatever illness I experienced in March, getting "old," and honestly, being a little afraid. So yeah, I was so excited, ha!

But it was beautiful. Don't get me wrong, in the moment, I hated a lot of it, likely because it was so physically difficult (and shouldn't have been) and I was unnecessarily terrified of getting down. I struggled much of the way up and honestly, was pretty miserable. The climb took us over roots, rocks, and some pine needle paths winding up Potash Mountain through some primarily green beech-heavy forest, then a pine forest, and finally up to the scrubbier mountain top. 

Holy moly, gorgeous views in all directions with stunning foliage. We sat for a quick lunch and rest then made our way down. The hiking poles were key there and it was easier than I anticipated. All told, 4 miles round trip and about 1,300 feet in elevation change on the way up. Despite the beauty of it all, I'm still processing my reactions. I'll get back to you on that.

Just A Little Moment

Oh this morning as things really quiet down around the pond and we took an early stroll and the sun and the mist and the stillness and the slight little tinge of antique on the leaves and that reflection and sigh.

Life As We Know It

I've started this post at least five times since mid-May, but never found the words to describe this moment. Months later, I still don't have them, but I'm craving the feeling of creating something so here I am.

It's hard to believe that this is life right now. Seven years of reading post-apocalyptic and dystopian literature didn't prepare me to actually live in one. I don't need to explain what I mean because even if you've been living under a rock, that rock is wearing a mask and is surely six feet away from all the other rocks.

I miss things. I miss "big" things like intelligent leadership, empathy, logic, truth, respect for science, compassion, and risk-free interactions with family and friends. I miss "small" things like in-person meetings with my business partners and clients, browsing the shelves at TJ Maxx, planning our next travel adventure, and walking into downtown Portsmouth for dinner at our favorite restaurant. Like all of us, I miss normalcy and life as we knew it. 

Compared to sooooo many others though, our lives are relatively unaffected. We're tucked away at our cabin in the woods and don masks when we go out in public, but aside from both of us working from home, not much else has changed. But then I remember. I remember the atrocity of how it is now September and this is STILL happening and how so many people are suffering in enormous ways, both seen and unseen. I remember how it really didn't have to be like this and how the virus pandemic, the longstanding racism pandemic, and the pandemic of a rapidly declining democracy are all colliding into one big mass of horrifying.

It's overwhelming. This is a new circumstance none of us have experienced. We're processing an ongoing trauma that has no end date and we're juggling life's new "normal" as we grieve what used to be. This is hard. But this is reality. We have to do what we can to stay sane, find the bright spots, and look out for each other. 

Lest you think this is a pep talk from the queen of pessimism herself, I also think it's important to go easy on ourselves. If ever there was a time to just not be okay, it's now. Allow it. And allow people in who want to support and help you. We could all use each other right now. It'll just have to be some virtual love.

Notes From The Travel Journal - Zanzibar

Off to Zanzibar, the impetus for this entire journey. After a friend mentioned that our itinerary might be overly heavy on actual safari days, I was nervous we would be sick of wildlife viewing, but we were actually despondent to leave. But alas, off we went on a puddle jumper back to Wilson Airport in Nairobi, transfers through customs and immigration, and a brief flight over to Zanzibar, an island off the coast of Tanzania in the Indian Ocean.

As soon as we disembarked the heat and humidity assaulted us. It was intense. Probably 95 degrees and 99% humidity, no lie. But we made it through the non-air conditioned immigration and piled into a taxi for the 1.5 hour drive north to Elewana's Kilindi resort. I've never been in a predominantly Muslim country before and observing the way of life, villages, people, shops, and culture from the van was quite the experience. Fascinating.

Arriving at Kilindi felt weird. The road was lined with villagers, shops, and "run down" looking hodge podge dwellings and structures then suddenly a gate with an armed guard appeared hiding this pristine property beyond. It was uncomfortable to see that dichotomy. Actually, I felt that a lot this trip and had to remind myself that tourism is part of the economy, but I still feel pretty mixed up about it.

 

Anyway, the resort was as insane as expected. Originally built as a private home for a band member of the group ABBA, it was comprised of 15 different "pavilions" discreetly built into the  forested hills leading down to the sea. Our home for the next five nights had a long set of stairs first leading to a sun pavilion with comfy beds and a plunge pool. Continue up to an open sleeping pavilion with huge doors that open to views of the sea. One more set of stairs led to the entirely open bathroom, also with ocean views. Finally, one more set of steps to a terrace with sweeping views across the treetops to the ocean. It was the most ridiculous place we've ever stayed.  

Our routine was lounging pool side most of the day, enjoying delicious food and afternoon mango daiquiris, then taking evening strolls on the beach when the heat slightly subsided. It was so hot that we didn't even venture into historic Stone Town, the center of the 19th century slave trade and flourishing spice market. We were disappointed we missed out, but there was no way I could handle a three hour walking tour since traveling four feet from the lounge bed to the pool was enough of an effort in the heat. 

So, woe is us, we embraced the relaxation. It really was the perfect nightcap to the safari experience and a great way to feel sunshine beach vibes before our extremely long travel day back to the wintry states.

I've struggled with how to really capture this trip in words. There's nothing I can say to explain how perfect, special, and just plain magical it felt. I immediately tried to convince Simon that I needed to celebrate my 50th birthday somewhere in Africa (Botswana and South Africa?) and because we never know what could happen, we should probably just do it next year. Love my logic. Anyway, I'd repeat it in all a heartbeat. Thank you Kenya and Tanzania.