Last night as I lay in bed (at 10 pm – I rarely make it to midnight and this year was no exception), it came to me that resolution is a strange word. “Solutions again”. Is this why we keep making the same promises to ourselves, over and over again? Seriously, how many years do you have to decide that THIS is the year you will  lose weight, or eat better, or save more, or slow down? And how many years do you realize that you haven’t done it?

Yes, I know that the definition of the word is not really “re” “solve”. Or “re” “solution”. I know it has to do more with “firm determination” and “a course of action determined or decided on.” But this conundrum is maybe why I hate the idea of resolutions.

Nope, this year I am making accomplishments. Accomplishing things like helping 10 more people. Listening to my children. Finishing P90X3. Tasty Thursday’s second year. Earless rabbit launch. Learning to make risotto. Reconnecting with friends.

Enjoying life.

Accomplishing badassery. Who’s with me?

20 years


20 years ago today we were preparing for our wedding on my grandmother’s front lawn. All that absolutely needed to happen was retrieving the final “permission” form from the town clerk’s office the next town over, a 15 minute drive over scenic-ly snowy roads. Friends and family had already gathered, so there was no last-minute traveler arrival to anticipate. Fresh snow had fallen in the night, lending even more beauty to the freezing cold Vermont morning.

What follows is part conjecture, part memory.

The cold temperatures had frozen the propane tank that lay along our route, causing it to explode or leak or something. (this is the conjecture part) Houses were evacuated, the road closed. Police guarded the space, not trusting even roadblocks to keep people off.

Our small car was not up to a trek over the mountain, the only other way to get around to town.

My aunt and uncle, the only people in the crowd with a 4-wheel drive, graciously volunteered to take us – they were not about to let us take the car, smart people.

An hour and a half later, we arrived at the clerk’s office, picked up the paperwork, and hopped back into the car for the nail-biting slide/drive back.


Fourteen witnesses (and apparently an innocent bystander, attracted by the spectacle of fancy coats and Christmas-collared dogs on a front lawn) shared in our vow exchange, and we escaped into the warmth of my grandmother’s house for a gathering that included some of the propane refugees.

Our life together started with an adventure, and it’s been one after the other. I wonder what the next 20 years will bring!

Happy anniversary, Jeremy. May our lives be filled with waves and water, love and laughter. I love you!



Days off

For the second day in a row, regular school routine has been disrupted in our household. Yesterday was a delay and today there is no school at all. So for the second day in a row I’ve gone back to bed instead of waking up at 5:30 to get my sweat on.

Still I’ve started off with a good workout – even though my waking up time is later than normal, popping the DVD in and getting my heart rate up remains my first activity of the morning.

It just means my whole day is shifted later, that’s all.

I love to complain about these days, partly because there often seems to be no rhyme or reason for the decision – not quite true, but seems that way. Last year we had 10 “snow” days (if I remember right), and only about 3 of them saw any white stuff at all. This year is shaping up to be the same.

But wait. The black cat just went outside. And she is covered in white flakes, after about 30 seconds. I tried taking a picture but she ran away. Bummer.

Perhaps this is a lesson, if I think hard about it. Life can change fast, whether you’re paying attention or not. If you pay attention, though, you can catch a glimpse of the beauty of white snowflakes on the back of a black cat.

What will you see today?