I awoke at 4 a.m. to the peculiar glow of a snowstorm under streetlights, and by the time I got out of bed a few hours later the street was thick with snow. Eventually I got booted and suited (snow pants: the best thing I've bought in the last 18 months) and stumped down to the market for bacon and eggs and all the rest. I had what I've come to think of as an "aggressively domestic" day: I've got dough proofing overnight for bagels tomorrow, I spent hours at the sewing machine and I did a bit of knitting, too. I find such satisfaction in those homely pursuits.
In other news...bits and pieces I've been thinking about lately:
- My old favourite Anne Lamott on people-pleasing
- Atomic Number
- Recipe for Montreal bagels (look for the verdict tomorrow)
- Fantastic sweater dress (I just have 5 or 6 mods to make...)
- Emotional labor (old article, new resonance)
Oh, and this:
Poetry is what you find
in the dirt in the corner,
overhear on the bus, God
in the details, the only way
to get from here to there.
(That's just an excerpt; read the whole thing.)