"Come Darkness" arrives at my front door

It wasn't until well into my twenties that I began to appreciate winter. Following 18 winters in the frozen tundra that is Watertown, South Dakota, I was certain that I would escape somewhere warm, hot even. Yet, it took a year in Austin, Texas for me to realize that I needed winter. I like the darkness. I need the seasons to change. Seattle suits me in this regard; The winters are wet, dark, and gray.

I believe this is the reason Maria Alexandra Vettese's (MAV) "homage to winter light" entitled, Come Darkness: Here we are again, resonated with me. MAV turned to her camera in an effort to capture those final days prior to impending winter darkness. The result was an installation at chelliswilson in Portland, ME, a limited series of images printed on silk scarves, and a keepsake book. My book arrived this weekend and I couldn't be more stoked. Each book in the series was made unique by differing scraps from the silk scarves taped to the front cover.

Talk to me in March and I can assure you that I will once again be ready for the warmth of a sunny day. But for now, I'm enjoying the rain.

image{s} of the week

Edmonds-Kingston Ferry

camera: Holga 120N
film: Kodak Portra 400NC
behind the lens: me

WedWed - Wedding Wednesday {1}

Chris and I are making it official, taking the plunge, tying the knot, and sealing the deal here in Seattle, September 24, 2011! I thought that, since we would be spending so much time planning our wedding, I would share the process with you all. Hence the new "Wedding Wednesday" or "WedWed" post. Right now we're just getting started, spending our free time scouring the internet for venders, getting catering proposals, and formulating the overall feel we're looking for. In order to begin the design process, I needed to come up with a palette. Sounds simple, except that I love color - too much color actually - and I try to smash them all together at once. It makes people dizzy.

I sought counsel from my two favorite spaces in the house: the kitchen and my closet. Standing in front of my clothing, I chose those pieces that I loved purely based on their color. My eyes went first to a poppy eyelet skirt hanging to the left. I nabbed it. Then, the parrot green sundress and light coral sweater caught my attention. As I took them from the hangers draped them over my arm, I recalled the coral nail polish I had recently purchased and, upon retrieving said nail polish from my makeup bag, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. While en route I spied my deep purple Hunter boots by the door. "I LOVE these!" I noted out loud and added them to my pile. Pulling out drawers and opening cupboards, I combed though the kitchen looking for all of my favorite pieces. A short while later, I came up for air with light pink mixing bowls, a lime gurgle pot, and a seafoam colander. "This is going well," I told myself.

1. Green Gurgle Pot (image via Gurgle Pot), 2. Purple Hunter Boots (image via Zappos.com), 3. Cantaloupe Essie fingernail polish (image via Essie), 4. Seafoam Calypso colander (image via Amazon).

After arranging the items on and around the dining room table, I beheld my possessions and realized, if I was to make certain it didn't appear as though a rainbow vomited on our wedding decor, I had to focus and edit. Badly. So, I drug what I could of my treasures to Home Depot where I proceeded to match paint swatches and corresponding neutrals. An hour later, this is what I walked away with:

*color names were taken from the corresponding Glidden and Martha Stewart Living paint swatches.

Phew. Now if only I knew how to keep myself from changing my mind.

hello 2011

When questioned each December 31st what my resolution will be, I typically proclaim, "To make this coming year better than the last!"

Yuck.

Initially, this resolution seems nice. Who wouldn't want the forthcoming 365 to turn out better than the previous? However, in reality, it's a cop out. Once I start dating things properly again, I've forgotten about the resolution entirely. Having an ambiguous resolution ensured my success or at the very least, lack of failure. This year I needed a resolution.

I thought long, I thought hard and I came up with a resolution that I felt had the potential to enrich and simplify my life at the end of the day (or year in this case).

1. Quit doggin' on yourself, self.

This profoundly difficult idea came to me via a 3 minute video on how to poach an egg.

Jane is asked to demonstrate how to poach an egg on the fly and toward the end of the video, she says:

"Some people like to clean as they cook. I'm kinda a messy cooker. And I've just decided to accept that about myself because life is hard enough, why dog on yourself, right?"

The truth is that there are things that I ought to simply accept about myself: I'm a messy cooker too. That's cool. I hate laundry but I love naps and don't need to feel guilty about taking one once in a while. Sometimes I start a knitting project and can't seem to finish it because, honestly, I'm bored. Oh well...

That felt good and it's only January 3rd.

2011, it's nice to meet you!

You're going to have to trust me that it's hilarious and watch it yourself. I was laughing out loud so hard that Chris came downstairs to see what I was doing and the cat was afraid. Guess you had to be there.

Happy Birtday!

I've been 27 now for a whole three days and have concluded that 27 is grand. Really grand. The kind of grand that even breaking the "H" candle in your now "Happy Birtday" cake that you baked for yourself can't turn sour! In fact, 27 is grand enough to get me through the severe stomachache caused by eating a large piece of that cake in 90 seconds or less. Chris stepped out of the living room while I began cutting that cake and by the time he reappeared, I had cut each of us a piece, put them on two plates, and ate mine. It was delicious; I wasn't sorry.

And, for not feeling that old, I scored big on old gifts! Each is so unique, I thought I would share some photos.

My Nona purchased these antique West German plates for me while she was visiting:

The compartments look like teeth, don't they? Which is fitting, after all, because its a plate.

For my birtday celebration, Chris woke me up early in the morning with three neatly wrapped gifts. The first was a book called The Urban Homestead: Your Guide to Self-Sufficient Living in the Heart of the City, by Kelly Coyne and Erik Knutzen. The second, a video camera:

A FILM video camera! I have no clue how to work it or how I'll use it yet. I do know, however, that there is an entire Vimeo group devoted to the super 8 film for this Sankyo ES-25XL so that makes it legit.

Last, and certainly not least, is something that I had been wanting for a very, very long time:

   

Its a fully functioning, 1961 Underwood Touch-Master Five typewriter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chris purchased this typewriter from Office Peeps, which is an office supply company in Watertown, SD.  When Chris asked his grandfather, Merlin, for typewriter model recommendations, Merlin in turn talked to Office Peeps owner Joel Vockrodt, who in turn was able to locate this machine in his warehouse. Joel's father, Maury Vockrodt, is a friend and former business partner of Chris's grandfather (here is a short history of the company). Long story short, the typewritter arrived in Seattle in mint condition!!

Thank you, Chris (even if I have learned that I am terrible at typing and can't spell without spell check)!!!

Seriously, look at a scan of the page I typed in the image above (click to enlarge).

Speaking of typewriters and missing letters on birtday cakes, the night Nona arrived in Seattle she busted out the following birtday gift from her suitcase:

I have to confess that the giant, gold letter R confused me initially.

Nona presented  it so proudly to myself, my mother, and Chris only to be met with silent stares from myself and my mother.

"What's that for?" I asked.

"Roby, silly!" Nona scolded. (A little background: my fiancé's name is Chris Roby).

There was an immediate resounding "OH!!!" from my mother and I.

"I thought R was for Randy!" I said, laughing (that's my Dad's name).

"I was thinking it was for Reynolds!" my Mom chimed in (that's my sister's married name).

Then I glanced at Chris who was giving me with this "you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me" face.

I shrugged.

You can do that when you're 27.