I throw a bunch of notes into my paper recycling bin. They are either my to-do lists that I have been able to tick off or print-outs with tips I no longer need. How liberating!
I have been playing with the idea of making a vision board for myself for quite a while now. But I hadn't had the time to do it. Then it hit me today: the background of my icons on my computer screen at work is like a vision board. And I have had a photo of a huge fatty piece of pastry coated with sugar there and I know it hasn't been doing me any good. I replaced it with a gorgeous photo with mountains peaks that I had hiked to 15 years ago. There. My vision board. Summer 2011 it is.
I gently touch her toes while she studies details in the illustrations in her magazine. I love touching Jay's toes. They are so tiny and smooth and round... like pearls.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
“One of those is mine!” says Jay as we walk beneath the hanging mobiles of house-drawings in the hallway.
As I rush down the street I notice a little girl in a big purple knitted wolly cap.
It’s midnight and I am shivering cold but I've completed the story book translation on one sitting and I’m happy. Why do I do it? Nobody asked me to, nobody’s paying, it’s just for my own pleasure to pick up a story in Slovenian and dive into translating it at my best.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
I find out that my present did get into the hands of the sweet little girl.
A whole cup of sweet creamy milk is poured over a soufflé with a golden crust. It’s gone within a second and the crust is still golden but softer.
Looking at the falling snow through a stained glass. My view changes colors depending on which part of the window I look through.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
I’m sitting next to the characters from the book and the next thing I know there is a car in front me and I'm walking across a parking lot.
At sunset Jay and I go for a walk to the hillside facing south. We ascend an old vineyard (with vines still growing without any attachment to their stakes with a patina of moss) and pick some bright yellow primroses. We each blow a flower, then eat it up and pick new ones. With hedges of primroses all around spring seems near although it’s only just mid-January. Ring-ting!
Paper petals in different shades of burgundy on our dining table.
Monday, January 17, 2011
The hilly eastern horizon is on fire with black tree-silhouettes in the foreground and a single star high above. Dawn.
So nice to have the daylight stay with us longer. Jay and I are still able to walk to the library in the late late afternoon witnessing a sun-set in the most incredible shades of pink. It delights Jay so much that she does some of her abracadabra jiggles in the middle of our local road and tempts the sky to move closer so she can touch it with her hand. Then we descend further down the road holding our Lila Prap imaged-bag with children’s books each by one handle.
One little boy climbing a ladder to reach for the dinosaurs’ book on the top library bookshelf and handing it down to another little boy. But then he realizes it is not the book he wanted and tries to put it back. That’s when I step in and he gratefully accepts my help.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Jay sneaks into the room and leans her head on my arm as I lie on my bed. I turn my head and all I can see are her smiling eyes and her silky blond hair.
Her friend’s gift, a cyclamen T-shirt with white hand-prints, fits Em perfectly. She does a happy dance in front of the mirror.
An e-mail in my inbox informing me that I’ve been picked to write a book review and that will be receiving a free copy of the book in a few days.
Monday, January 10, 2011
As my colleague and I sit down by the table outside the patisserie the shop lady offers two red blankets through the window. We wrap them around our legs and feel warm and cozy.
I get a call from a person working at some education institution informing me that the seminar I was interested in a while ago is taking place soon. It is tempting.
I ask Jay to wait in the bed till I come to read to her. »I will go through this book and then I will play with the culcalator.« She has her own way of saying calculator, her latest favorite device.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
There is a scent of spring in the wind.
Our guests are thrilled about the home-made pizza with bear’s garlic pesto.
Jay doesn't like combing her hair. Much less having it washed as she dreads getting water in her eyes. But this time she's enjoying it. “Mommy, I hear rustling when bubbles pop!” she says with a big smile on her face topped with a bubbly hair-do.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
She glows while sharing details about her holidays with me.
I stick a package with two cookies in my handbag but Jay spots them right away.
I feel the healing vibrations of the gong in my body.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
The first time I see a gong so close I could touch it. I love the shimmer of light on the brass.
I watch Jay lean over to Em and gently touch Em’s face with her little hand to bring it closer so she could confide something only Em should hear. Sisterly love.
There is an interview with a photographer on TV. He’s wearing a knitted scarf with stripes in bright shades of pink and orange.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Footprints in the snow: my daughter’s, my Mom’s and a dog’s (that we haven’t got yet).
Bare branches of oaks against the blueness above me.
Warmth with a cooling effect. Peppermint tea.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Saturday, January 1, 2011
I am grateful for new beginnings. Every day is a new beginning.
I love Strauss' walzes. It's January 1, indeed.
It's sunny and the ground in the forest is soft.
My coconut roll looks like a disaster, but it is delicious. Even my Mom thinks so.