Take a letter

A few days ago I was feeling especially low when I got home from school. But when I opened my mailbox, I found a letter!

This one was from my good friend N. He's currently in Armenia, finishing up his second year in the Peace Corps, and we've been sending transatlantic letters to each other since he started. Even though we can email pretty easily (and text, too), we save the letters for longer, more drawn-out thoughts and stories. Lately we've been swapping horror stories about teaching.

There's something about letters that email just can't touch. Maybe it's the anticipation--you have to wait longer to receive a reply, and the longer you wait the more exciting it is when you finally hold it in your hands. I've heard that what makes it special is that someone took the time to sit down and write to you, instead of dashing off an email. I guess that's part of it. For me, it's also the way letters force me to sit down and write, to collect my thoughts and focus consciously on what the other person said. It makes me feel more present.

I do wish we sent more letters. There's nothing like holding a slim, tissue-thin envelope in your hands when you get home from work. And those red and blue stripes make it even more fun.

Reading

I have this habit--maybe you do, too--of starting a book, getting about a third of the way into it, and putting it down for a day.

And picking up another book, and getting about a third of the way into it, or halfway through, and putting it down.

And so on, and so on, until I have four or five books scattered around the house waiting to be picked up again.

Usually they span a range of genres, to fit every reading mood. So right now, I'm making the most headway in David Mitchell's The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet for book club, because we meet every week and read a book every two weeks, so most of the time I feel like I should be reading that.* (The pace alone is pretty exhausting.) But half the time I'd rather be rereading the Betsy-Tacy series, or finishing the memoir a friend lent me, or planning future vacations like Alice Steinbach's.

I like to think it's the product of an excitable brain. There are so many things to think about and read about, like Welsh rarebit parties and tracking Jane Austen and surviving graduate school while expecting a baby with Down's syndrome and the Dutch trading agreement with Japan...but really, maybe it's a sign that I can't commit.

For whatever reason, though, it works. Dipping into one book here, another book there is almost like sitting down with a new friend every afternoon. It's such a comfort.


*Book guilt is a whole different story. Do you ever feel guilty about prioritizing one book over another? Even when they're both just for fun? It plagues me...

Hearts

Two things that made this Valentine's a pretty fun celebration:

Cupcakes with sprinkles. J and I ate them after dinner last night (yeah, a day early). Molly Wizenberg calls it a "far-from-disaster" cake recipe; it was close to perfection. And there were a million leftovers. Yum.

A card from darling sister L. We have a tradition of sending valentines to each other from our fake lovers, who try to persuade us to run away into the sunset with them. This year Rooster from True Grit asked for my companionship on the trail, while Julian Fellowes tried to woo L with his screenwriting skills. (Apparently this year's theme was old men.) It's a nice guarantee for some laughs in case the day is a lonely one.

Do you have any fun traditions?

Indulgences

As February drags on, I'm finding that I allow myself more indulgences.* Little things, like buying French vanilla coffee at the cafe by school instead of brewing a batch of plain coffee in my stained coffeemaker at home. Or baking scones one afternoon, just because. Or spending a weeknight watching the next Harry Potter movie on my list instead of grading. Or buying flowers once a week to brighten up the kitchen.

I used to worry about budgeting for things like flowers and breakfast out. You're supposed to save in your twenties, so I've heard, and it is good advice. I've even been guilty of over-budgeting, so much so that my mom will periodically call me and tell me to go out and buy some shoes, already. And while the little indulgences add up over time, they're just that: indulgences. As long as they don't take over your daily routine (as the Harry Potter habit is threatening to do), as long as they brighten up your day (or week), then they've done your job. You do what you can to get through February.


*My high school history teacher must really have made an impact on me if the first thing I think of when I use the word "indulgences" is not rewards, but the reason why Martin Luther decided the Catholic church needed reforming. Oh dear.

The shape of a day

A snow day, that is. Yes, another one! (Even though the roads were clear by 9 that morning....shhh.)

It starts with my new favorite breakfast: a puffed pancake (recipe from Naomi of rockstar diaries), drizzled with Ohio maple syrup, plus fresh coffee and orange juice. Eaten at the kitchen counter while reading a rediscovered children's book. With an immense feeling of satisfaction at having finally conquered the pancake's tendency to stick to the pan.

Then there's some research for a project.

While there are lesson plans due next week, I don't feel guilty about ignoring them. Because we weren't supposed to have this day anyway.

After lunch, a long walk with a friend along our favorite route, followed by cups of hot chocolate at the end of the road. We split up to be productive, which means settling down with The Hobbit to prepare for an upcoming literature unit at school. (So there is some work after all.)

Lately I've been having trouble feeling entirely at home in Providence, and things at school have felt like the start of the year all over again (like winter break was five weeks long instead of two). But yesterday was sort of a reintroduction to my apartment and one of the best parts of the city, and today things are looking a lot brighter.

Happy weekend, looking ahead.

Double snow day

Yes, that's right. Double snow day. (I love working for independent schools.)

As you've probably heard, the east coast got a good dose of winter a few days ago. I spent most of Wednesday at J's house, watching episode after episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and marveling at the snow from the comfort of a couch. It felt indulgent and extremely irresponsible (considering the pile of grading I still had left to do), but snow days demand irresponsibility. Everyone's a kid on snow days.

Then, on Thursday, we both got a second day because the roads weren't clear. Even though Providence public schools had reopened, even though the parking ban was lifted. So I spent that second day acting a little more like a grown-up, writing a history exam and battling with the roads to photocopy the exam for Friday.

But that afternoon, I let it all go again and watched Harry Potter and baked sea salt brownies and went for one of those winter walks. It was absolutely magical.

Winter walk

A confession: winter and I don't always get along. I think the cold and snow make things festive, especially around the holidays, but perpetually gray skies get me down. So I turn to the old standbys to lift my spirits, like long underwear (striped), hot chocolate, and lots of silly old movies (like this one). And walks.

When L and I were in Cleveland over winter break, we took a walk in our local park system.

We remembered that on the rare days the sun decides to appear, an Ohio winter can be quite lovely.

We're more inclined to look for little moments when it's sunny and clear.

 

And when we've had enough of the great outdoors, we can always come home to a house that smells of the pine twined around the banister.

Back in Providence, I have to remind myself of these things. We're between snowfalls, so the city is cold and grimy and not very pretty.

Another walk might be just the ticket.