memorial day weekend

how was your memorial day weekend spent? did you make big plans?

I forgot the day was coming, and when I remembered I heard of big storms and something about a "tropical depression". but I wasn't depressed.

sometimes it's so wonderful to have to be at home, and have to stay inside. you don't feel guilty about being in, because the sun isn't out to call you into its beams.
you sit and think for a moment, and then you remember about forty-six things you had wanted to do on just this kind of day. and then you do all of them.

I did some baking, experimenting with barley flour after reading this book on whole grains. barley flatbread and barley scones.
Thomas and I experimented with designs for our wedding invitations. he's sort of taken it in to be his baby, and I'm happy about that. 

in the spirit of crafting, I made myself a throne of pillows on the floor, surrounded by the Beatles' music, and tore up brown paper bags for further crafting.
somehow working like this, mindless yet purposeful, is like housework in that you try to procrastinate and get away from the task, but once you submit to just doing it, you find your whole mind joyful and your thoughts come faster and happier. I love it.

lastly but very much not least: I splurged on the loveliest cookbook. only because the last time I purchased a cookbook, it was by the same author and it became so beloved, I knew it would be a cooking investment.
very fond of food, by miss sophie dahl.

a book to look at for the pictures only.
and then go back and read the stories and descriptions and insight.
and then return when you're actually hungry and need a recipe.
I love love love her style and I'm so happy to have splurged for it.

happy returning-to-the-weekday!

house+wifery

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I'm counting down the days till I move!
Thomas and I found the sweetest, best little house to rent and I'm going to live there and fix it up over the summer until we get married in September.

Consequently, every piece of creativity I was squeezing from myself into wedding planning has gone straight into fixing-up-a-house planning.
And I couldn't be happier.

Until then, odds and ends from my house pinboard:

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-trying not to overthrift,

becca

happiest things

celebrating sporadic joy in very small odds and ends-

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this little burger joint
grass-fed beef and local produce, with housemade ketchup and pickles.
we've gone twice in the last week and I tell everyone about it.

thomas and I are getting married in four months minus seven days!

this etsy seller interview
actually, every single one of the etsy featured seller interviews.
there's something so fantastic and inspiring about people making things and being employed by their own creativity. I can't help but get excited.

...on that same note, this little site is great too.

finally getting a library card.
checking this book out. loving it.
dying to have a mad baking spree.

what are you crazy about lately?
feel free to link up!

clean-up on mile five

This morning when I stepped out of bed, my feet hurt. Like, ached in an overused, nerve-issue, unsolvable-on-my-own kind of way.

And I realize that it’s not the mature response, but that made me mad. 

Angry, even. I’m twenty years old and live a very normal life. What could possibly make my body so breakable?

So I went for a run. 

I’ve been so good- downright prudent-slowly completing my daily exercise quotients, skipping a run if I feel I ought not to run. I’ve stretched and rested and bought nice shoes with nice insoles and nice gel inserts to wear over that, and I don’t do anything too crazy. It’s probably been two months since I exceeded six miles, which is far too long to my competitive streak.

So I got out of bed, and I told myself, “Alright then feet. If you want to hurt like that, I’ll give you something to hurt about.”

I ran nine miles without stopping and felt like the happiest, sweatiest (those two go hand in hand, I think) version of myself that I’ve known in a long time. 

I don’t know when the lines softened and dissolved between painful, exhausting exercise and vicious therapy. Running is the like the best mind work, to me. 

I run and think, and write books and poems, and schedule out the next months’ tasks and resolutions.

Some people never catch on to loving the run, and I don’t think it’s essential. Or even important enough to debate on. Just find something you love, and can with practice be good at.

I just want to keep running.

Maybe it’s not solving the problem but I don’t know what the problem is. I just want to feel happy and healthy, and run and skip and breathe deep. If I’m going to break, I’d better break doing something fully and gloriously happy.