resolutions

A year ago the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve felt never-ending. This week has been so busy I’ve barely had time to remember we celebrated Christmas as all. In all the rush there hasn’t been time for me to think about, ponder and dwell on the significance of this week, of my thoughts, hopes and wishes for 2012, the year of the dragon.

Rushing around can have a way of making one feel as though they are moving rapidly and productively toward a goal. It can also have the opposite effect. It can make me feel as though life is running away with me, taking with it the laughter and smiles I was supposed to give and receive, with the contentment I was supposed to feel, with the purpose I thought I spent a long time searching for, discovering and creating.

It’s not to say I am discontented with my life. I know full well that I have freely chosen the life I currently lead, without undue influence or pressure. But it sometimes makes me worried that my whole life will be like this, choosing a worthy goal and quickly tiring of it as the charm wears off, losing heart that my goal had any worth at all and struggling, almost constantly it feels, to stay on task and maintain a good attitude.

But in my heart I know that’s not what life is. True understanding of one’s purpose, a lifestyle of work and play that brings fulfillment, is possible. But I’m young! There’s still so much of the world for me to see and experience. I hardly think it would be normal, let alone healthy, for someone my age to have a clear understanding of his or her lifestyle in terms of the long term.

Even though I have experienced parts of my life that are discouraging or disheartening I realize the importance of a good attitude and humor in all aspects of one’s life. Neither of these are sustainable if they’re superficial. They must be heart-deep.

May the year ahead will be as full of adventure and new experiences as last. May the days ahead hold as much meaning and wonder as the days I spent exploring Europe. May I not take my blessings for granted. May I live my life with purpose and deliberateness. May the noise in my head not drown out the quiet in my heart.

May this New Year bring new blessings, new wonders and renewed hope to you all.

“Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string. Accept the place the divine providence has found for you, the society of your contemporaries, the connection of events. Great men have always done so, and confided themselves childlike to the genius of their age, betraying their perception that the Eternal was stirring at their heart, working through their hands, predominating in all their being. And we are now men, and must accept in the highest mind the same transcendent destiny; and not pinched in a corner, not cowards fleeing before a revolution, but redeemers and benefactors, pious aspirants to be noble clay under the Almighty effort let us advance on Chaos and the Dark.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson

you wont like me when i'm...hangry

Hungry + Angry = Hangry. Obviously.

Not quite. It's more that the event of hunger only requires a small catalyst to develop characteristics of anger which result in Hangher.

Just thought you ought to know.

be cool

Happy lessthanaweekuntil Christmas!

There is so much to do, and with only six days left, my family and I are going to be pretty busy! Cookies still need to be baked, shopping for the cooking and presents needs to be done. We don't even have a tree yet! But, like with every busy year, we have a plan and everything that needs to be done will be just that.

Maybe I'm too old for this, but with work it seems like I'll be missing out on a few of the preparations. Even with the craziness and slight stress, the preparation is all a part of the Christmas magic. We don't just do all the work for ourselves, but for our neighbors and family. It's a part of our gift, to invest ourselves in Christmas. When I'm missing it, I feel a little like the kid who has to stay home while all the other kids got to go out and play.

But if I learned anything it was that anything different is not bad, necessarily. Different is, usually, just different. It just takes little time to grow our hearts and embrace the difference. So, this Christmas will be different than the ones I had when I was in highschool. But why shouldn't it be? I'm different too.

shopaholic

Hands down, if there's a shopaholic in my family it's my little sister Anja. At seventeen I can honestly say Anja is beautiful, interesting, thoughtful and smart...and a shopaholic. The only thing that keeps her from this vice is her homework, basketball practice and the fact that she's too young to have a credit card.

While I was in Spain last year, making 250 euro a month with no bills to pay or rent to cover or children to feed, I too became a little bit of a spender. Nothing crazy, just a couple new pairs of shoes, a jacket and some jewelry. To me though, it was a close to being a shopaholic as I'd ever gotten.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to anyone...

I'm in Newburyport, looking for things I need for Christmas and a present for my cousin's birthday, when I just felt the urge to check out all the stores. I walked into one and immediately picked up something I wanted to buy. I walked around the store, picking up and putting down a few things. I eventually bought the card I wanted and managed, almost without effort, to make my way to the bookstore. I was in there for less than five minutes when I realized the temptation was too strong. I strode out the door and walked determinedly out of the shop to the library where I could take home as much as I wanted without spending any money.

chatterbox

As a child I was a chatterbox. Today, I remain a chatterbox. Anyone who as met me knows this. I sometimes wonder where that comes from. Some of it definitely insecurity and the need to continue talking to avoid the awkward silences. But some of it does come from the fact that I have something interesting or entertaining to say. I know that there is a time and a place for (almost) everything, but some things just need to be said. Period.

Not to say that I don't understand the value of silence. Silence is golden, I know. It's in silence that realizations, epiphanies and pies are best had. I think the need for noise, for a distraction, is not a positive thing, at least for me. Whether it's plain old nerves or having a bad day or just feeling NQR (Not Quite Right), the need for over-talking and too much enthusiasm must be tempered, balanced. These kinds of situations are the times when it is more important than ever to look inward, take a breath, take a moment to find the silence within and proceed with confidence.

waiting for superman *****

This movie made me realize, more than ever, how incredibly lucky I am to be a Waldorf student and to have gone the the school I did. Education is everything.





I was tired when I walked into CVS after work. It must have showed when I set the DayQuil and EmergenC on the counter to pay. As I left the women said "have a good night! And I hope you feel better!". I was feeling a little sorry for myself at the moment and I so appreciated it.

friends with benefits **

In the last couple days I moved into a chick-flick binge. It's not something I'm very proud of.

Anyway, while on this binge I saw Friends With Benefits, starring Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis. Last summer I saw (and loved) No Strings Attached, with Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher. It was odd to see two movies with such similar premises come out in the same year, in the same summer, I think. Two friends decide to hookup, a sex-only deal, no emotions, no relationship, no breakfast the morning after. In each these friends learn that just having sex with someone, without any emotional attachment, is a lot harder than they thought.

Anyway, back to the point. As I said, I loved No Strings Attached. Friends With Benefits, not so much. I think for me it was just the quality of the acting, as well as the script, that made Friends With Benefits pale in comparison to No Strings Attached. And with Natalie Portman in that cast, I'm hardly surprised.

For example: Emma Stone, who has this teeny tiny role in the first five minutes of Friends With Benefits, plays the 'crazy girl', the totally needy, annoying ex-love interest of Justin Timberlake. Those first five minutes were my favorite. Emma Stone lit up the screen and cracked me up. After that I was left with Timberlake and Kunis who weren't unfunny, they just didn't make me smile like Stone did.

Needless to say, Friends With Benefits was not my favorite movie, or chick-flick for that matter. Just wanted to let you know.

This is the closest anyone other than me has come to expressing the way I feel about the beautiful, complex, wonderful English language.

yeah, they're girly...so?

I have a friend with whom I have almost nothing in common. Still, she's one of my best friends, a wonderful person of deep thought and heart.

I digress.

One of the things that this friend and I do not (and may never) agree on is the matter of chick-flicks. You know the ones. Girl meets boy, girl hates boy, they fall in love and get married and live happily ever after. At least that's the basic theme.

But I like chick-flicks, at least the good ones. Yesterday I was feeling one, so I chose The Jane Austen Book Club and curled up with a blanket. It's sweet, so much better than I thought it would be.

My friend hates chick-flicks is because, to her, they aren't realistic. Things aren't always happily after and they don't always work out. Love is full of heartache and worry and confusion and pain. I don't disagree with her. But chick-flicks make me smile and warm my heart, not because they're full of possible scenarios for my life, but because it just magnifies the parts of life that make life worth living. Those fleeting moments when things do work out. There's too much pain and hate and not working out in the world for me to hate on the sweet stuff that makes me smile, just because it's not realistic.

God gave a loaf to every bird,  

But just a crumb to me;

I dare not eat it, though I starve,—         

My poignant luxury        

To own it, touch it, prove the feat                

That made the pellet mine,—   

Too happy in my sparrow chance             

For ampler coveting.     

 

It might be famine all around,   

I could not miss an ear,         

Such plenty smiles upon my board,        

My garner shows so fair.             

I wonder how the rich may feel,—          

An Indiaman—an Earl? 

I deem that I with but a crumb     

Am sovereign of them all.

-Emily Dickinson

let's give thanks

This is a day late, I know. But I don't think I should have to make excuses for myself on my own blog, so I'm just going to go for it.

Here is what I am thankful for (this is not a complete list).

The first thing that comes to mind are my family, both immediate and (widely) extended. With each relationship I share, with each person I learn something new about the world, about life, about people. The family is the textbook, the practice, the environment in which we grow into the people we become.

Second are my friends, both close and not so close. People who, despite not being related to me, enjoy my company, challenge me, keep me laughing and continue to remind me that the world is greater and better than my own pettiness.

Third, and certainly not least, God Herself. Without Her, nothing I have, nothing I know, is special. SHe is responsible for the magic in my life, for the struggles, but also for the profound joy. Opportunities and blessings abound because of Her.

I hope your Thanksgivings were full of love, light and family. And food. Lots of food.

this blew my mind

I wasn't going to be among those whining and moaning about how the commercial holiday season seems to come sooner and sooner every year; but I think I'll join up.

The Santas, red bows, snow scenes, Christmas trees and even Christmas music that have gone up even before Halloween candy has been handed out seems so blatant that although it doesn't surprise me, I wonder if I am only among a few who are bothered by this?

I've always known that commerce, businesses, play a huge role in the 'holiday season' and that the celebration of Christmas, Hanukkah, and the winter equinox have been steamrolled by corporations doing anything and everything they can to make a buck...or a zillion of them.

The best part is how we just let it. For me, December means advent, it means the celebration of the birth of Christ, the warmth of love we need from each other in the coldest part of the year. A reminder that even though the world is cold, God shows us his love through the smiles of our families, friends and neighbors.

I'm not surprised, just a little sad. Because I feel like the controversies every year over public creche displays, or saying Merry Christmas instead of Happy Holidays, and the commercial occupation of the season are both symptoms of the same problems.

Atheist, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist, Pagan, whatever way we choose to praise our God (or not), we have forgotten the importance of kindness, of a smile, of generosity. Because the truth that can be found in this season is not in the gifts or the food, or even just the time we are forced to spend with our families. It's about finding the light in the darkness of the season, the warmth in the cold, love in a world full of hatred.

be careful what you wish for...

I was chatting with my sister a few days ago, complaining about how I don't enough shifts at work to really make work feel worthwhile. Fast forward three days and I'm rushing to get this done so I can go to bed, having suddenly had two double shifts dropped in my lap. I'm not complaining, but it did occur to me that one ought to be more cautious about one's wishes.

To bed!

The following is an email sent to me by a friend. As we near the Christmas season, his words become more and more relevant to me. Calling a Christmas tree a "Holiday tree" makes about as much sense to me as calling a menorah a "Holiday candle holder" or a creche "a Rural Holiday Family Scene"

what may be the heart of the problem

Apparently the White House referred to Christmas Trees as Holiday Trees for the first time this year which prompted CBS presenter, Ben Stein, to present this piece which I would like to share with you. I think it applies just as much to many countries as it does to America ...

The following was written  by Ben Stein and recited by him on CBS Sunday  Morning  Commentary.

My confession:

I am a Jew, and every  single one of my ancestors was Jewish.  And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled  trees, Christmas trees.  I don't feel threatened.  I don't feel  discriminated against. That's what they are, Christmas trees.

It doesn't bother me a  bit when people say, 'Merry Christmas' to me.  I don't think they are  slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto.  In fact, I kind  of like it.  It shows that we are all brothers and sisters  celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that  there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach  house in Malibu .  If people want a creche, it's just as fine with me  as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.


I don't like getting  pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting  pushed around for being Christians.  I think people who believe in  God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period.  I have no  idea where the concept came from, that America is an explicitly atheist  country.  I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it  being shoved down my throat.


Or maybe I can put it  another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship  celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God ?  I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too.  But  there are a lot of us who are wondering where these celebrities came from  and where the America we knew went to.

In light of the many  jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little  different:  This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's  intended to get you thinking.

Billy Graham's daughter  was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her 'How could  God let something like this happen?' (regarding Hurricane Katrina)..   Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response.  She  said, 'I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for  years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our  government and to get out of our lives.  And being the gentleman He  is, I believe He has calmly backed out.  How can we expect God to  give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us  alone?'

In light of recent  events... terrorists attack, school shootings, etc.  I think it  started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a  few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we  said OK.  Then someone said you better not read the Bible in  school.  The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal,  and love your neighbor as yourself.  And we said OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock  said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their  little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem  (Dr.. Spock's son committed suicide).  We said an expert should know  what he's talking about.  And we said okay.

Now we're asking  ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right  from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their  classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think  about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out.  I think it has  a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.'

Funny how simple it is  for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to  hell.  Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question  what the Bible says.  Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail  and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages  regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.  Funny how  lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace,  but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and  workplace.

Are you laughing  yet?

Funny how when you  forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list  because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you  for sending it.

Funny how we can be more  worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of  us.

Pass it on if you think it has merit.

If not, then just discard  it.... no one will know you did.  But, if you discard this thought  process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is  in.

My Best Regards,   Honestly and respectfully,

Ben Stein

imagine!

"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you" -Matthew 7:7

Is this true?

I remember when, frustrated once again at my family's financial woes, I wrote a list of all the things I wanted. If I could just have these things, I knew I would be content. I eventually calmed down, but kept the list and taped it to my wall, thinking it couldn't hurt to keep it on my wall for when Christmas and birthday wish lists were needed. As I have always been one of simple taste, the list was one of simple things like two new tank tops and maybe a few new pairs of underwear and a new pair of jeans. A year later it occurred to me to reexamine this list, maybe even revise and update it. What I realized moved and changed me. Everything on that list was now in my possession, down to the brand of the boots I wanted. It began I period in my life when I realized the power of knowing what one wants at a level deeper than mere avarice or desire.

I was talking about this with a Methodist friend of mine, and he told me about the Methodist idea of confession, not in the Catholic way of reciting one's sins, but in the way of expressing one's desire, or gratitude, and the impact that can have, simply because it is said out loud.

Perhaps the what it really boils down to is understanding what it is we desire, what we want in life, in the next year or month, what we want right now. To me it's figuring out what we truly want that is the real challenge. Because once we pronounce it, God can take care of the rest.

a veteran's day bubble bath

I came home cranky: a migraine was carving a hole in my forehead and a table that put me to work for 3 hours at the restaurant only left me $20. Not happy.

I came home and was blessed by a call from my best friend. Cheered, I took off my clothes and sat on my bed in my underwear counting out my tips from this past week. My spirits raised further, but I was cold so I decided to take a shower...which turned quickly into a bath...a bubble bath!

Thoughts from my veteran's day bubble bath: hot! need more bubbles, hummus and crackers are not the most sexy bath food, wow knees are actually really buoyant, bubblesssssss...and so on and so forth.

My headache is nearly gone and a little soup will take care of the hunger. I've always groaned inwardly at quotes and things that just gush about how lucky we are! Probably because I'm not quite as grateful as I should be. But it's not as if I don't think I'm lucky, or that I shouldn't be grateful...I just don't feel that way most of the time.

And it's not quite that I felt lucky, or special, as I relaxed and swirled bubbles around. It was more that I thought, "this is niiice" and for once acknowledged the niceness of life, of being alive, despite migraines and $20 tips. Because even though I've always known that...in that moment I really believed it.

have you thanked a veteran today?

We should do this every day...but today has been set aside especially to honor those who served and let's not forget it.

From those who fought 70 years ago, to those who are overseas now, Thank you for your service. Your sacrifice is what allows all of us to live the lives we do. You are among the blessings showered on our country. May God bless you and your families.

Thank you.

They say that laughter is connected with longevity...I'd modify that just slightly by saying it's those who can experience joy and express it that will live the longest...

resist the temptation!

After working two hours mucking out my goats' shed yesterday I, unsurprisingly, got a blister. Not a bad one, but there definitely was a little, albeit, hard and small, bubble on my palm at the base of my middle finger. It itched. I scratched it. It itched some more. So I took my teeth and bit it, taking a piece of my skin away as I did so.

I truly regret my actions.

In ruining this natural protection for my wounds, in removing "God's band-aid" as my mother calls it, I have left myself open for possible infection and scarring. Plus, I have to keep cracking out the band-aids and ointment. Which is a hassle.

Still, it amused me that, upon rising this morning and wishing for a time machine, my purpose would not have been to reverse some world catastrophe or save lives, or even one life. I wanted to use it to unbite my blister and replace my band-aid for God's. It also occurred to me that, knowing self control is, for me, a challenge, all that probably would have happened anyway, just at a later time.

Time heals all wounds, I suppose, so give me the opportunity to whine about it and a few days and all of this will seem but a dream, trapped in times past.

Oh my, I'm going to be late for work, gotta run!

to rise, or not to rise...

The alarm woke me up at 8:00am, as it should; I set it for 8:00. I sat up, stopped its incessant noise, set the alarm and went back to sleep. I was reawakened at 9:00. My dog was peacefully sleeping at my feet. I sat up and lay my head on her back. When I woke up it was 9:05 and my back was freezing.

I could just lie back down, be warm...Nellie is so comfy too...

I languished in this state of indecision for ten minutes before hauling myself out of bed and into the bathroom. Even as I returned to my room I was so cold the temptation to climb back into my warm, soft, comfy bed was overwhelming. I gathered my strength and resisted it. Successfully, at least today. Once I was dressed I was fine, not sleepy, well rested, ready for a brand new day.

You might have groaned, outwardly or inwardly, when I told you my wake up time. Many, braver, souls in our great civilization wake up at much earlier hours, be it for jobs or school or, heaven forbid, exercise. I used to be one such person myself. For four years I was up and at'em by 6:00am every day, with a two hour commute to school ahead of me. Not pleasant, but obviously not impossible. Doesn't make waking up in the cold any easier now.

You, who woke up at 5:00am to go to your job, be well!
You, who woke up at 6:15 for school, learn a lot! But, come to think of it, don't go crazy...
You, who woke up at 5:30am to exercise...I have little to no sympathy; only awe.

procrastination

The backbone of the scholar's work ethic! The guilt, the indifference, the sheer blah that comes with procrastination! As I mentioned yesterday, TV has a way of pulling me in and without me even acknowledging it, three, four episodes go by, four long hours in which so many things could have been accomplished, have flown by.

Come home, eat, relax, college applications. This is the plan.

This has never happened, at least not on two consecutive days. Today I came home, relaxed, walked the dog...and ended spending the last hours of the working day helping my sister and mother prepare for a trip tomorrow and then watching TV...again.

It's not to say my afternoon wasn't productive. But the actual work I needed to get done went, well, undone.

It probably doesn't matter. After all, I'll have tomorrow evening too. But that's what I said yesterday!

it's time for bed, just get over it

Languishing on the couch after hours of television, streams of advertisements burying the actual program whine and whiz past my mind, barely registering at this point. 

A zebra takes a lipstick out of her purse and fixes her makeup while a crocodile lies in wait. The zebra goes into the water for a dip and get pulled under water by the hungry crocodile. A few still seconds pass and the zebra emerges victorious, a new crocodile handbag hanging in the crook of her elbow.

Wait, what? Did I just see that, like, with my eyes? It's when you can't even comprehend the stupidity, somehow justify it in your mind, or even properly ignore it that you know it's time for bed, or a good book, or human contact...or all of the above.

TV just sucks me in. I could blame it on the fact that the shows are so good but, really, who's going to buy that? I think it's a lack of personal motivation, to get up and actually do what needs to be done in the next hours before sleep. 

Speaking of sleep...'night!

a new beginning

I suppose abandoned blogging because I worried that the shreds and tatters that were my emotions that the time (*joke*) would end up bleeding through, making my blog into a public version of my journal, which is very, very, private. Also, I just stopped pretending I saw a point.

I charge into this second try, the "2.0" version, if you will, will seven months more of experience, hopefully a little perspective and another birthday under my belt. I'm hoping any one of these things will help. No holds barred, if that's the correct term of phrase in this case, no limits and as few cynical preconceptions as possible. I'm not going to try to be inspiring, or special, or even interesting. I just want to see what it's like to blog. That way, if I abandon it once again, (*joke*) I can at least have a formed and informed opinion on blogging.

If my bumbling is too sad or embarrassing to watch, just look away. As for me, I'm off!

Madrid!

Ah, the city life!

I was born in a city, I lived in Boston, the capital of Massachusetts for two years and I grew up in a city. But life, age and general coincidence made it such that I never really considered myself a 'city-gal'. Besides which, when I explain to people that my family now lives on a dirt road and keeps goats in our expansive yard it's hard to convince anyone of this. But what would be the point in trying? I'm not a city-gal! In the most formative years of my life in the city my family and I had our lives, school and work mostly outside it. And working on what your friends call your grandparent's 'farm' during the summer doesn't do much to add a city quality to a person's personality.

So, last weekend I moved from the Sierras of Madrid to smack in the middle of the capital. I am, for the first time, living the life of a city gal and I love it. When I was younger I subscribed to the belief that my living in the countryside made my life boring and me uninteresting. I dreamed of being the confident, beautiful and attractive cosmopolitan like in those romantic comedies. With time that subscription was cancelled, but the desire to just see what being in the middle of it all was like remained.

Now I live a 20 minute walk from the city center and minutes away from the metro...what a life! Cars, people, dogs, the noise...its all very exciting. Provided I can keep myself from getting lost too many times, I am sure the next three months I spend in this tiny apartment will be amazing...

Tortilla De Patatas

I got home from a party last night at about 10 o’clock this morning. After five hours sleep I wasn’t exactly perky, but I did realize how glad I was to be home. I hadn’t eaten anything in about ten hours so I went to the kitchen where I got sidetracked by Maria, who was just starting up a traditional Spanish dish called Tortilla de Patatas, which is basically an enormous omelet with potatoes. The one today also included onions, zucchini and cheese. I’m told cheese was a bit of an experiment in this case. It’s a simple concept, but in reality a bit challenging to make.

After slicing and peeling potatoes we fried them in three quarters of an inch of olive oil on a low heat as to cook them without getting them crispy. A little later some onions were sliced thinly and added to the pan. In another, which just enough oil to cover the bottom, were the zucchini slices which were cooked and then set aside on paper towels. Our resident three year old and part time dictator was assigned the job of cracking eggs into a bowl, which he performed more aptly than I, 16 years his senior, ever could. After the eggs were soundly beaten salt and the zucchini were added. By that time the potatoes were soft and ready. 

To avoid the hot potato-onion mixture from cooking the potatoes in the mixing bowl and to reduce the amount of oil in the dish, after taking the potatoes out of the pan with a slotted spoon the potatoes and onions were placed on paper towels for about 5 to 10 minutes before also being added to the mixture. The bowl was set aside for one hour.

After the hour had passed more salt was added as well as slices of cheese. A pan was put onto a medium high heat and lined with olive oil. When the pan was hot the egg-potato-cheese-zucchini-onion mixture was poured on top. To check and see if the underside as sufficiently cooked the pan was shaken back and forth to see if the tortilla moved. It happened that this particular tortilla was incredible large, making this effect more difficult to achieve. We then placed a place with a diameter a little great than that of the pan on top and, with the two of us together, managed to flip the half made tortilla onto the plate and upside down back into the pan. More shaking of the pan, a little more time and…A tortilla was made!

I’ve never been a huge fan of cooking, eating always being the more tasty option for me. But there is something about this country, this house and my own personal journey here that is bringing cooking into a healthy proportion to eating. I labor under no delusions however; even though I know I may never reach any kind of skill or awaken any talent with the former, I know I shall always excel at the latter. With Maria’s ideas, support and guidance I am learning to cook! Lord help my family when I get home, I just might want to feed them…

God bless you all, have a great week.

Kika

“I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element. It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my daily mood that makes the weather. I possess tremendous power to make life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration, I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis is escalated or de-escalated, and a person is humanized or de-humanized. If we treat people as they are, we make them worse. If we treat people as they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of becoming.”

- Goethe

El Sol

The sun, here in Spain, is glorious. Contrary to the belief of many, Spain does not have perfect, sunny weather all year 'round, though it is rather milder than New England. No, during the winter temperatures do drop a bit, sometimes a fair bit and although this year seems to be a terrible example, I am told that many times it snows.

But the sun is glorious. It is so bright, sometimes even while it is raining and when it's not it makes the sky an incredibly blue blue. I think my favorite part of Spain is her sun.

  In my first experiences with Spanish rainstorms I was rather impressed with how light it was outside anyhow. Now it seems I am rather accustomed to it. Last week and a little before it rained nearly every single day and the days that weren't rainy were cloudy. Four days ago, every cloud vanished, and the sky and sun shone blindingly bright.  My only wish was that I couldn't open the windows and let the light swirl in like the fresh breezes were. To make up for what the laws of physics lacked in that department I decided to got for a walk with little Bruno my almost 11 month- old charge.

His mother and I tucked him into a baby- carrier hiking backpack and with the straps firmly buckled around my too-narrow hips we set off. It was beautiful. The ground was wet from all the rain and enormous puddles had grown in the middle of the paths. Bruno chatted in my left ear and kicked his little shoes lightly against my back. There's a young horse that lives close by and when we went to see him Bruno began to kick and cackle with excitement.

It is amazing what a little sun can do. The sun made my week, I think, and it was a very good week. Have a wonderful weekend.

Kika

A Very Belated Feliz Reyes!

I have discovered my favorite holiday so far here in Spain and want to write about it before it is totally out of season…I am almost too late, and I apologize for the tardiness of this post.

I had been out at La Cabalgata de los Reyes Magos (the parade of the Three Kings) in my village with some friends and was relaxing at home the night of the fifth, when I heard a little voice outside my door and some furtive tapping on the door. Opening it I found the little almost-three-year old clutching his of- the-moment favorite two plastic animals (a tiger and a small tiger). Asking him to repeat what he had been saying I was told that he needed two of my shoes to set out for the three kings. Together we found my nicest pair and went downstairs to put them next to the four other pairs set out in preparation. Leo was practically wiggling with excitement as his dad came in with the two trays, one piled with sweets and dates and three glasses of wine, and the other with a bowl of water, bread and carrots. It was carefully explained to me that the first was for the three Kings and the second for their camels. As Leo bent down to pick up one of the glasses of wine, it was explained to him once again. In his excitement, I think the process had to be explained about three times…it wasn’t easy, but he was finally gotten to bed with his little brother who seemed rather even keeled about the whole thing. After waiting a little for him to be properly asleep I gathered my wrapped gifts for my Spanish family and brought them downstairs and placed each package by the appropriate shoe.

The next day Leo must have decided to sleep in a little…I didn’t get a knock on my door until 8:30. Grabbing a sweater I stumbled downstairs to join the festivities. Christmas had arrived in Spain. Aside from the many, many toys the Kings had left, other beautifully wrapped packages for the older folks. All were unwrapped and delighted over and kisses for the special day exchanged. Later that afternoon we went to the house of Leo’s grandmother where, amidst food and family, the good cheer I craved for the holiday grew and swirled and warmed all that were there.

The magic is not so closely felt anymore. The season has passed. But I have discovered once again the magic of Christmas, the power of one day, to make everything seem collected and right again. My only regret is that I did not write my experience sooner, for perhaps if I had you would understand the joy and warmth of that day, the kind that seems to be lit by the smiles of children and angels, the kind that are filled with the smiles that come from the inner divine within us celebrating.

As life goes back to its normal schedule let the monotony of living not weigh us down, or let us forget those memories made in the last year, the last few days of holiday, that made us laugh or moved us.

God Bless you this week.

Kika

There is another way of looking back over the year. Instead of how little you accomplished, look at how much! A year, that's 364 days, to fill with breathing and talking and learning and crying and regretting and learning all over again...It almost never felt like it at the time, but every day last year was a step forward to who I am today. That's a nice thought: that no matter how pointless a day might have seemed, as 2011 arrives it brings with it perspective. That day was a step, not a very exciting step, but it was a step nonetheless. We, Creation, Humanity, are intrinsically designed to move forward and so we do, sometimes slowly, sometimes with great speed, sometimes laughing and so many other times crying. But we are moving forward, we are going somewhere, we are, dare I say, progressing.

So whether you have spent your first day of 2011 nursing a hangover, enjoying the company of your loved ones or a little bit of everything I hope today is the start of another wonderful year, a clean slate which, like those tempting chalkboards at school, we can fill with equations and work, but doodles and smiley faces too.

Have a great year.

Kika