A Cottage by the Sea, Part Two: Islands are nature's circles...or something

I visited Ocracoke Island for the first time in September 2006. One of my dearest friends, Kelly, asked me to be her maid of honor and the wedding was on Ocracoke. Don't know where Ocracoke is? Neither did I at the time. It's part of the Outer Banks in North Carolina, an island only accessible by ferry. It's the island where Blackbeard died and is known for figs (the Fig Festival is in August). If you were a fan of The Lonely Doll books as a child, the author, Dare Wright, was also known for her photographs of Ocracoke and set one of the Edith books on the island (the one where Edith and the bears go on a holiday). At the time of Kelly's wedding, I had just relocated to Virginia following Hurricane Katrina. Leaving New Orleans (where Kelly and I met; were were roommates in college) was simultaneously the best and worst decision I have ever made. New Orleans is the only place I've lived that I've felt was a home; such is the life of a military child. It's the most vibrant city I've ever been in. However, I know now, and probably knew then, that if I stayed much longer I would never have moved forward in the way I needed to. I probably would have left later, a bit more broken from what was going on in the city.

A month before the wedding, I started my new job working for a start up ed tech company, moving into the first of many roles I would fill for the company over my 10 years there. I started as a support team member, one of those roles that is both incredibly rewarding and incredibly soul-crushing at the same time. There are only so many polite ways to ask a person (who is paying for a service you provide) if their computer is turned on or if they've clicked on the very large button that says "send" (you know, the one staring them in the face at this exact moment). This would all come later; at that moment, the moment where I drove my car onto the ferry to Ocracoke for the first time, I only knew I was enjoying a new adventure, getting to know my co-workers, and finding a place to live that was not the guest room at my parents' house. I was slowly dealing with the stress of Katrina: the evacuation, the three month "exile", the nastiness I encountered on the road as I worked to bring in a class for the university, the garbage pile outside my apartment that grew and grew and grew, the punch to the gut every time I picked up an application and read another essay from a student who lost everything. I had no real support network left in New Orleans but I had started the slow process of building one in Virginia (a process that would take a long time and I would argue, is still ongoing).

All of this was swirling around in my brain when I boarded the ferry the first time. Of course, Ocracoke has the ability to remove the mainland from view very quickly and not just because you eventually can't really see Hatteras from the island. Cell service is spotty at best so it's easy to disconnect because it won't work anyway. It was nice to be able to focus on my friend and the wedding and nothing else. It had been at least 2 years since I'd seen Kelly but, as I knew we would, we fell into our jokes and stories and friendship the way you do with your best friends. It was the perfect event to end 2006 (so to speak). I didn't get to experience all of Ocracoke on that trip but I completely understood why it was the perfect place for the wedding and why Kelly and her family continue to come back.

I didn't make the connection between 2006 and 2017 until I was driving down NC-12 earlier this week to catch the ferry for a return trip to Ocracoke. As I passed the pun-tastically named houses and dinosaur and pirate themed mini golf courses along the way (no, I didn't stop at either although I wanted and yes, they are separate mini golf courses), I realized that the last trip to Ocracoke was at the start of a new part of my life and this trip is at the actual end of that new start. The universe has an incredible sense of humor. As I wrote a few weeks ago, I'm currently experiencing the life of a chick lit novel heroine so what better thing to do than to read way too much into something AND go on a trip to an island which is the actual premise of dozens of novels within this genre?

I can, because I'm me and I'm female (and we do this sort of thing all the time), read a lot into this.  I have successfully completed phase one of being the quintessential chick lit heroine. This phase includes wallowing, binge-watching Netflix shows, baking for no reason (or to make the people in your life happy), crying, and a trip to a winery on a Monday. Completing phase one allows me to move on to phase two: the connection phase. This phase always coincides with a journey of some form and during this phase, the heroine reconnects with people she doesn't often see in person (like Kelly and the rest of the group in Ocracoke). Additionally, the improbable events will begin any day now. Improbability in chick lit novels usually leads the heroine directly to phase three where the pieces begin to fall into place and the new path is forged by our plucky heroine. Improbability takes some time; I could be in phase two for awhile.

Ocracoke did not solve my problems but it was the break I needed. I have spent far too much time in my apartment over the last few weeks. More importantly, this trip provided a few of the things I desperately needed at this exact moment in my chick lit heroine life:

• A road trip - literally nothing is as good as driving along scenic routes listening to music and having an Icee at 10:22 am.
• Conversations that were about everything but also nothing. Kelly and I had so much to catch up on and may have retold some stories more times than needed. I would have to ask the others if this was annoying or charming. I'm going to guess charming.
• Planned for Kelly's next artistic project...seashell and driftwood art. There is definitely a market for it in the Outer Banks so really the only thing left is to come up with a delightfully punny name and harvest raw materials. We were able to create a list of possible items Kelly should create: jewelry, wine racks, name plates for beach houses, spice racks. Everyone helped with this part. Kelly now needs to let the shells speak to her, as one does.
• Learned the importance of appreciating YouTube video humor from a 12 year old. The 12 year old and I also agree that Rocket Raccoon is the best and that super hero movies where the super heroes are too "super hero-y" are the worst. 
• Considered the possibility of my next art project being a book entitled The Feral Cats of Ocracoke. There's an audience for this book somewhere.
• Laughed a tremendous amount.
• Went to the beach. I'm not a huge beach person but it was incredibly satisfying to walk along the beach. Kelly was able to start collecting her shells so now it's just a matter of time before her sea art is the next great thing. I also got slightly sunburned despite my wearing sunscreen so the world is working in the way it is supposed to. 
• Discovered that skinny jean shorts are a thing. Imagine the most hipster dude you can conjure in your brain, hack the skinny jeans off just above the knee, add an ironic statement beard, and the beach night out equivalent of a deep V-necked shirt (so a collared version) and you have the one person I never thought I'd experience while visiting an island in the Outer Banks. 
• Began planning our 40th (we're so old) birthday trip. This was countered by being asked, not carded, but asked if we were over 21 at dinner one night when we ordered beers. Only Kelly and I were asked so there's that. We've identified a large number of things we don't want to do so we're off to a good start. So far the list of possible trips includes: the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, somewhere in Canada, and my suggestion of a trip to Mexico to visit Frida Kahlo's museum. We have work to do.

Sometimes you have to revisit a place in order to truly move on to whatever is next in your life. That is the lesson of this phase of chick lit heroine living. That's how you get closure.

The first photo of my book project - they look like Pumpkin's less pleasant cousins.

Some inspiration for Kelly - I feel like the fish/mermaid plant holder would be better with a topiary in the shape of a mermaid or fish head.

I am not participating in Record Store Day this year for reasons. Happy 10th Anniversary to RSD!! You can relive my past RSD adventures here or go out and make your own by visiting your local record store today.

You're Doing Everything Wrong: British Baking Show Edition

It's no secret that I watch reality television. I have, over the years, enjoyed The Real Housewives of New Jersey (although I don't want it anymore), Project Runway, Project Runway All-Stars, Face/Off, RuPaul's Drag Race, Food Network Star, Iron Chef, and The Real World (through the New Orleans cast so 1999?). I watch a lot of Food Network shows which are not really reality tv but they all take place in the chef's homes so I feel like they fit into the category. Is it weird that we all know what Giada's kitchen looks like or that we know where Ina keeps the serving platters in her house? Probably but it's best not to think about it too much.

I've never been into shows like Teen Mom or anything involving a Kardashian. Big Brother, The Amazing Race, and Survivor don't appeal to me at all. I absolutely can't get into The Bachelor although I loved Rock of Love, the show that followed Poison front man Bret Michaels on his quest for love while still living his rock and roll lifestyle. There was something so beautiful and completely bananas about that show. Like a lot of things that existed in the early 2000s, Rock of Love came to us at exactly the right time for what it was. We will never, ever recapture that moment...which is absolutely, 100% the right life choice for us all.

Reality television is a lot of things: voyeuristic, funny, sexist, exploitative, sad, heartfelt, creative. Most of the time, it's great escapist fun. Some of the time, it's dangerous and harmful. Reality television creates great villains and even better heroes. We all become #TeamSomeone at some point in our viewing life. People typically refer to reality television as a "guilty pleasure" because they're embarrassed to admit to watching it. I've written about this before; I hate the concept of guilty pleasures. I don't believe we need to apologize for the things we enjoy or hide our interests because someone considers them too lowbrow. The things we enjoy, from music to books to television to movies, make us the unique and interesting people we are.

With the exception of the Jersey housewives and old school Real World, the reality television I tend to watch are competition shows, specifically creative competition shows. As a creative person myself, I feel like these types of shows help inspire my own work. Cooking and baking shows are great for picking up techniques and new ideas for how to make different recipes OR they make you hungry enough to bust out the old baking pans and create something new. While not entirely devoid of the "drama" of placing a variety of personalities in close quarters for weeks at a time, most of the shows I watch lack the table-flipping, hair pulling antics of members of any Real Housewives casts. There's usually a villain but that villain still likes the way you drape a skirt or make a fruit tart.

However, the relative politeness of a Food Network Star contestant is not even close to the actual politeness of everyone involved in The Great British Baking Show (only called this in the US because Pillsbury owns the trademark on "Bake Off" here - fascinating). I'm late to the GBBO (as the cool kids call it, I'm sure) game but I'm not disappointed I joined in. The show began in 2010 and has been credited with a resurgence in baking, particularly traditional baking, across the UK. PBS broadcasts the show in the US and the last three seasons are currently available on Netflix. I just started season three last night. If you've never watched the show here's the way it works: 12 (although this has varied over the seasons) home bakers compete in a 10-week baking challenge. Each weekend, the group goes through three challenges: Signature (their "best of"), Technical, and Showstopper. The technical challenge is always wild; judges (Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood through the season I'm watching) provide a recipe to showcase technical skills. The recipe is often missing information like baking temperature or time. The bakers have to use what they know to figure it out. Additionally, many of the technical challenges are items no one has ever heard of or they've heard of but never seen. This challenge is my favorite.

This is my favorite cake of the 2 seasons I've watched.

The constant, and what I love most about this show, is how nice everyone is. From the judges to the presenters to the contestants, everyone is absolutely lovely. The contestants don't try to sabotage one another (although there was controversy over the Baked Alaska Showstopper challenge in the first season I watched) and they help each other out when they can. They seem supportive of one another in a highly stressful environment. The presenters, Mel and Sue (in the seasons I'm watching), are hilarious and provide the right amount of sass and encouragement to contestants. They're like a funnier, bawdier Tim Gunns. Even the judges, Paul Hollywood (of icy blue eyes and particular taste in everything), and Mary Berry (just freaking delightful), are polite...even when they're providing a less than positive critique. Mary Berry (I have to say her whole name all the time) is the kind of person that you don't want to disappoint and it's exciting to see the reaction of a baker when she praises them. They're all a little in love with/afraid of Paul so that's fun to watch too. One of my favorite Mary Berry compliments was to Ruby (I think): "That's bit of alright." I want to say that all the time in a British accent when someone does well. It sounds so good.

The politeness is just one of the things that sets GBBO apart from the other reality shows out there. The other two elements of this show that astound me are that bakers go home during the week and they get to practice. Unlike pretty much every reality competition series I've ever watched, the bakers get to go home each week. This makes a huge difference in their demeanor and their behavior. While they may be in a foreign environment to bake, they're not completely cut off from their support networks. It makes a huge difference in the way each person handles stress; they stress about the challenge not missing work or being away from loved ones. It creates, at least as I view it, a level of focus on the challenges that I don't think I've ever seen on other reality competition shows. What's also interesting is how they balance home responsibilities and being in the competition. They go about their normal lives between weekend challenges so they go to work, take their exams (there's always a young baker still in school), and care for their children or grandchildren. They have time to relax between being in the stress of the tent (the "kitchen" is a tent in the countryside complete with cut away shots of lambs and goats...it's enchanting).

They also get to practice. According to several articles I read about the show, bakers are given information in advance for the Signature and Showstopper Challenges. This allows them time to practice in between weeks. Practice is important, especially when you think about what they have to create for the Showstopper Challenge. Getting ingredients right, construction techniques down, and flavor profiles in line makes all of the difference. One of my pet peeves with most competition shows I watch is that it seems like none of the contestants watch previous seasons before they show up for theirs (I know this is untrue but come on). Contestants always seem completely unprepared for what's about to happen to them; that's not the case on GBBO. While there are surprises and mishaps, the bakers always seem to know what they're up against even when they have literally never heard of the recipe they're asked to make for a technical challenge. I truly believe it's the ability to practice that helps with this. They're comfortable with what they're doing and they make beautiful and delicious baked goods.

Did I forget to mention there's no prize? There is a prize, a beautiful cake stand presented by Mary Berry on the finale episode, but there's no monetary prize for winning the show. Bakers spend more money to be in the show than is probably worth it since they have to practice and send samples to producers in advance. Several of the show's winners and finalists have gone on to great success in the baking world, writing cookbooks, opening bakeries, and even doing spinoff shows so they obviously benefit from being on the show. However, I've never gotten the sense that any of them are on the show for this reason. They're on the show to do something they love: bake. I can completely understand.

So while I believe we are doing everything wrong when it comes to reality competition shows, I would not change any of the other shows for the world because it would take a bit of the specialness away from The Great British Baking Show.

As I dive into making a coconut cake this weekend, I'll keep Mary Berry in mind, "That's a bit of alright."

Frances & the finale Showstopper
GBBO cast 
Mary Berry

DC Days: Dots, Pumpkins, and Obliteration

I had the opportunity to see the Yayoi Kusama exhibition Infinity Mirrors at the Hirshhorn this weekend. If you're able to get tickets at any point during the remainder of the run here in DC, do it. Take off work, shirk adult responsibilities, and go see this exhibit. The exhibition is traveling to five additional cities after the Hirshhorn run.

My favorite room was "Aftermath of Obliteration of Eternity" - it was one of the most beautiful experiences I've ever had in a museum and it only lasted 20 seconds. Kusama's obsession with dots is one I can get behind. 

All photos shared below were taken by me or my friend Emily, who joined me for the exhibition. This exhibit is best experienced visually so I'll stop with my commentary and share the photos. 

Phalli's Field (1965/2016)

Love Forever (1966/1994)

 The Souls of Millions of Light Years Away (2013)

Love Transformed into Dots (2007/installed, 2017)

 Aftermath of Obliteration of Eternity (2009)

All the Eternal Love I Have for the Pumpkins (2016)

The best photo I took all day - it's of the ceiling.

 
The Obliteration Room (2002) - Visitors get to participate in this room by placing dots all over the room.

A Cottage by the Sea, or How I Became a Chick Lit Character

When I started going to the gym regularly, I had to find a way to make it less awful. Music was a given but I found that reading on my Kindle helped make the time fly by. My 45 minute workout did just that everyday and I crushed my yearly book totals (I read a lot of books this way. I don't even count anymore.). I like variety in what I read but I'm also not interested in spending over $3 for a Kindle book and I don't want something that takes a ton of concentration so I tend to focus on a few genres for my "gym books":

• Mysteries - specifically those involving a sassy woman who can communicate with ghosts and teams up with the cute sheriff to solve old crimes (there is more than one series that fits into this category). My most recent find was called The Girls and it was wonderful despite its lack of sassy woman communicating with spirits.
• Horror - I like stand alone horror so I've reread some Stephen King classics and a few new ones by Christopher Rice and Joe Hill.
• Biography/Memoirs - I'm a huge fan of books about people who used to be cults and odd celebrities who led fantastic lives like the girl who played Veruca Salt in the original Willy Wonka movie (she was not in a cult).
• Chick Lit - throw in travel, baking, or music and I will buy your entire series and read it twice.

I was thinking about this earlier in the week as I walked on the trail near the Village at Shirlington. My apartment complex is still renovating the fitness center so I have to walk outside now rather than on the treadmill. The weather is nice enough (finally) so it's a good way to get out of the house for a little while every day and have something to do. I have a lot of time on my hands right now; it's important to fill the time.

Anyway, as I was on lap four of one of my walks, I had the realization that I have become a woman in one of the novels I read at the gym. Most of the chick lit novels I read involve a woman approximately my age (or in the range of 25-40), something "terrible" happens to her (marriage dissolves, business folds, laid off, death in the family, horrible breakup, all of the above), and she spends the novel reinventing herself or getting her shit together. Along the way, her friends and family get involved (they're always a little quirky), there's a romance, and shenanigans abound. My recent favorites include:

• The Little Bookshop on the Seine by Rebecca Raisin
• From a Paris Balcony by Ella Carey
• The Dress Shop of Dreams by Menna van Praag
• The Coincidence of Coconut Cake  by Amy E. Reichart  
• Vintage by Susan Gloss
• Village Books by Craig McKay
• Little Beach Street Bakery by Jenny Colgan

There are many more I could list but you get the point. Of this group, Little Beach Street Bakery is my favorite (followed closely by The Coincidence of Coconut Cake). It involves living on an island (which I have done), baking as a form of therapy that becomes a business, bees, and a puffin as a pet. There's also a sassy best friend, a super rich dude, a sweet American (the novel takes place in England), and an elderly lady who is awful but ends up being a decent person. Polly, our protagonist, loses her business, her boyfriend (with whom she was in business), and her apartment all at once so she moves to a tiny island that is only reachable when the tides cooperate. She begins covertly baking bread which angers her landlady but leads to her opening a little bakery to make her rent. She also adopts a puffin who breaks his wing on her first night in her new home (his name is Neil which is exactly what I would name a puffin if I had a puffin). She makes a bunch of mistakes and then rights them and there's a Star Wars themed wedding (I'm not making this up).There's a sequel but I haven't read it yet; it's not under $3 so I have to wait.

Since my disastrous week last week, I've done many of the things that any good chick lit heroine would do:

• I've wallowed.
• I've visited a winery.
• I've eaten ice cream and let it count as a meal.
• I've gone to a yoga class.
• I've listened to what can only be described as girl power music (you know what I mean minus Beyonce since she's not really my jam).
• I figured out how to get my gym time in without a gym and now have three new dog friends in my neighborhood.
• I've talked to everyone I know (slight exaggeration), trying to make them see this as a good thing as I try to convince myself of the same thing.
• I've reorganized my kitchen cabinets (my closet is next).
• I've baked and cooked a lot (and have more to come).
• I listened to three Radiohead albums. 
• I've talked to my mom at least four times and I'm visiting her today.
• I'm binge-watching shows on Netflix (about to start season 2 of "Love") and spent an entire day watching CSI reruns.
• I've considered becoming a flight attendant.
• I've had conversations with Pumpkin (I do this anyway but it seems like it's happening more).
• I'm going to Ocracoke right after to Easter to spend time with some friends because all great chick lit heroines go on a trip at some point in their journey.
• I think about time a lot as in how to fill it and how to set goals for myself to accomplish things.

Following the chick lit heroine trajectory, I'm right on track for week one following the shake up. I stopped crying, both from grief and anger/shock on Monday so I think I'm good on that front at least for now. I've had multiple pep talks from friends and family (thanks guys, you're all the best) and I've started hearing from a bunch of people with opportunities for me to look into for my next job. Now all I have to do is get the old resume together and start applying for things. I'm also going to build a project portfolio website which sounds super fun and something I didn't think I'd do.

Which brings me to week two. Typically in these novels, it takes more time than two weeks for our heroine to get her shit together and move forward; a novel would be boring if that was how it worked. I'm not drowning in a sea of takeout containers and wine bottles (I'm such a disappointment I know). However, since I'm a real person and a certified (in my mind) planner, I can't sit that long. I've got to make lists and feel like I'm moving forward. It's been overwhelming, in an absolutely amazing and positive way, to hear from so many of colleagues and friends in the last few days about job leads and opportunities and how awesome I am. This gives me confidence to get ready for whatever is coming next. So next week, rather than wallow some more and pretend cookie dough is a food group, I'm going to get my resume updated, build my website, and reorganize my closet. It's good to have goals. And bake some; I promised to bring delicious treats to Ocracoke.

The only chick lit week two plans I'm missing are: a meet cute, a spilled cup of coffee (possibly involved in the meet cute, possibly a way to show our heroine's awkwardness or cause her to have a mini-meltdown in public), an awkward conversation with someone, an improbable connection with someone I know (think something along the lines of my friend's uncle is in publishing and wants to read my unpublished novel and thinks I'm a genius), and a fashion montage. Who's up for a fashion montage?

 This weekend on the Island, we're going on a little field trip to see the Yayoi Kusama exhibition, Infinity Mirrors, at the Hirshhorn. I'll post a photo blog so if you don't get to go a least you can see my photos and feel like you were there. 

DON'T FORGET: Saturday, April 8th is Rex Manning Day! I hope you celebrate appropriately by damning the man and saving the empire. 

Someone has to be the Bond villain...

My brother: He looks like he could play the evil wizard in a sci-fi movie.
Me: Who?
My brother: Uncle Bob.
Me: He sort of does, doesn't he?

I'm paraphrasing slightly but this is basically a conversation my brother and I had in the car earlier this week while in Detroit for our aunt's funeral. There is no mistaking that my uncles are my father's brothers (and my aunt fit right in but in a pretty, feminine way): they have the same nose (as does my brother), their hair has grayed in the same way/pattern although they each wear it differently, and they have similar mannerisms. I don't remember the last time all four of them were in the same room together for a significant amount of time. Sadly, it was probably at my grandmother's funeral (over 12 years ago). After my brother made the comment about Uncle Bob, I couldn't help but cast my dad and other two uncles in their respective villain roles, not because any of them are bad people but because this is how my brain works:

• Chris would be the billionaire super genius Bond villain who owns an island (think Dr. No's Crab Key meets Atlantis from The Spy Who Loved Me - yes, this is a very specific reference but one my father and uncles would appreciate).
• Phil would be the tech villain, wreaking havoc on an unsuspecting populace with sound operated drones. (This makes lots of sense if you know my uncle and his hobbies. Again, the family will find this more amusing than anyone else.)
• My dad would be the retired military guy who uses a bird army to do his bidding. This would work for my dad...trust me.

Everyone has a coping mechanism for grief and loss. Cleaning, stress-eating, exercising, extreme anger, internalizing all emotions - there's something for everyone. I prefer a mix of crying, (including, but not limited to, ugly crying, hitched breath crying, and silent crying), making jokes, and being extremely polite. Humans are actually the only species who can trigger crying for emotional reasons; tears are mostly used for keeping eyes properly lubricated or as a reaction to something in an eye (like dust) but there's no real scientific reason for why we cry in other situations. According to several articles I've read on crying, many scientists believe humans cry to form social bonds. Crying is a signal from one human to another that there's a problem or something that's causing an emotion (positive or negative). Shedding tears is also a sign of vulnerability and triggers empathy and comfort in others. So we cry to connect to another person and we react because we're wired to do so and not come off like jerks when someone needs a hug. There's no scientific proof that crying has any positive health benefits but that doesn't mean we can't believe it does. I'm sure I'm not the only person who feels better after crying. Crying and swearing are incredibly satisfying ways to get out emotions.

It's hard to believe that my aunt is gone. When I was younger, I thought my aunts and uncles would live forever (just like my parents). I couldn't imagine them being anything but the young people they were at that point in time. While she and I were not super close, we loved each other and I know that there are certain things I do in my life that she influenced. She never learned to drive (I got my license late in life at age 20). She loved to travel and enjoyed opera music. She was a kindergarten teacher for over 30 years. She loved her students and teaching. My favorite memories of her are from childhood when I'd get to help her set up her classroom for the new school year (she'd let me help with the bulletin boards). According to one of her colleagues, she was the best snowflake maker of all of the teachers in their group; she literally wrote the lesson on how to do this and they still use it to this day. She was artistic and creative, bringing art to life for her tiny students. I met one of her very first students who told me my aunt was her favorite teacher ever and it's because of my aunt that she became a librarian. Teachers, if you ever doubt that you have an impact on your students, please don't. After meeting this woman and reading online posts from other former students, I will never doubt the power of an exceptional teacher. Alzheimer's is a cruel disease and it's even worse to see it in someone so young (she was 66 when she died). My uncle took great care of her and you could feel how much love there was/is for both of them amongst their friends and colleagues. I didn't know anyone other than family at the funeral but they all had a kind word or a wonderful story about my aunt or my uncle or them as a couple. They all talked about how vibrant she was, even as the disease took its toll.

The other memories I have of my aunt are of her house. We'd usually visit Detroit during the summer or over a holiday so much of these trips was spent shuffling from one relative's house to another. Both sets of grandparents have very distinct houses that form the basis of most of my childhood memories of Detroit: the yellow house on Vinewood with the big backyard where I made mud pies until I couldn't add another layer of dirt to my clothes and the small house on Lola; I'm still not sure how my father, his four siblings, and my grandparents lived in that house but the back porch was a good hiding spot when I wasn't eavesdropping on my mom, aunts, and grandma gossiping at the kitchen table. My aunt's house was different; I never wanted to touch anything because it all seemed like it was in the perfect place and if I touched something the magic would disappear. Both she and my uncle collect things (Santas, Civil War artifacts, pottery, art) so there was always something interesting to see. You enter the house through a front porch (covered so maybe it's not a porch?) so it always seemed so formal to me as a child. There are stained glass panels in the windows which cast colorful shadows and patterns into the rooms during the day. The backyard was lush and beautiful; it was like stepping into a fairy tale. We didn't go there as often as my grandma's house but it always seemed like an occasion when we did (and it usually was for someone's birthday or a holiday so there was cake).

These are the things that ran through my mind during the visitation and the funeral and the after funeral reception: backyards, stained glass windows, and bulletin boards. Casting my uncles as villains in movies. Crying silently. Watching family dynamics play out in different versions of grief. Experiencing the true community of growing up in one place; my parents and their siblings went to high school together so they've been involved in each other's lives forever. My dad and my uncle (my aunt's husband) were altar boys together too. They all have stories for each other's stories and family lore that needs to be written down stat. Fun thing I learned on this trip: my great aunt Peggy supposedly dated/hung out with gangsters and teamsters. Sweet.

I don't know what it's like to live in one place all my life. That was not the life I had nor am I sure I would want that life but it's interesting to see the connections and relationships of people who do. For me, the closest thing I have to that is my work life. When I finally stopped the two year job hop (that's totally a thing people do in their early careers so don't judge), I found a community of people with who I felt at home and I stuck with them for 10 years. These were people who were/are committed to helping students be their best and providing support for the people who work to help students succeed. It was energizing to work in a place that had a strong mission and such passionate people. I was doing good work and doing my part to help my colleagues be their best at work. While it's difficult to end this chapter of my life just as it's difficult to think about my aunt's passing (and at the same time, thanks whoever decided on that one), I know that both of these moments are for the best. She is in a better place, without the pain and hopefully, with her voice returned to her after these years. I will figure out what's next for me and move on to something even better.

For the record, if you ever have to receive more bad news on top of an already crappy week, I highly suggest scheduling time after you've visited two wineries. The wine won't numb you completely but it will help when the hitched breath crying starts and you let loose a string of obscenities that would make a sailor blush. You can blame the wine...it's always the wine's fault.

And because I promised, here is a fun childhood photo since I've depressed you enough today. I was looking for pictures of me and my aunt in my picture box when I got home but I don't have any here which means they're in that box at my parents' house that I've been meaning to bring home for months. Instead I found this. I can't judge Pumpkin's Ikea bag too much if this is how I used to roll.

Apparently, I enjoyed hanging out in laundry baskets as a baby...like a cat.