tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88238632024-03-07T14:10:45.191-05:00urbanwanderlust: roving observations of a city girl<b>ur‧ban /ur-buhn/ (adjective)</b>
<br>
1.of, pertaining to, or designating a city or town.
2.living in a city.
3.characteristic of or accustomed to cities; citified.
<br>
<b>wan‧der‧lust /wahn-der-luhst/ (noun)</b>
<br>
a strong, innate desire to rove or travel about.
<br>
<i>(so, it's really all about this 20-something Minneapolitan and her ongoing quest for Essential Sarah. Interest piqued? Read on...)</i>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.comBlogger438125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-5320591315081564472007-09-18T17:20:00.001-04:002007-09-18T17:20:11.924-04:00Multimedia message<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOyVWVhyphenhypheny2Hrq8VugXs-Zfhl-vE4PdHuWng9D0bwyAfm3cVtqcLbkXNi6WQguSExBgA5kW1hQTRWYyoKtbiZGVaSSLsEow8Lm32brO75jPmAMH5K0rXUZ9j_rahjrOFJBW_ktFw/s1600-h/bm-image-711926.jpe"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOyVWVhyphenhypheny2Hrq8VugXs-Zfhl-vE4PdHuWng9D0bwyAfm3cVtqcLbkXNi6WQguSExBgA5kW1hQTRWYyoKtbiZGVaSSLsEow8Lm32brO75jPmAMH5K0rXUZ9j_rahjrOFJBW_ktFw/s320/bm-image-711926.jpe" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111657098511643794" /></a></p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-82415812636818330042007-08-24T13:19:00.001-04:002007-08-24T13:19:23.110-04:00drinking whiskey and rye<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/85045651@N00/1126201057/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1392/1126201057_c2ccaaf102.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/85045651@N00/1126201057/">P1000714</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/85045651@N00/">Leetch11</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> (from Jana's going away party on the 10th)...<br /><br />Jana moved her business out to Mad-town this weekend. I'm lucky enough to get to hang with her this afternoon and evening, but thought I really ought to throw out a formal tribute to a kindred spirit. Not to mention those kick-ass pointy elbows. And ability to make up words while lamenting workday hangovers which creep up on you in the late morning.<br /><br />I know it's all going to change, and it will still be good. But it's been a helluva year, and I'll miss everyday-Jana.<br /><br />Thank God I also enjoy visiting NeverNeverLand (ahem, Madison).</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-5033685156350399302007-07-16T18:58:00.000-04:002007-07-25T00:30:52.549-04:00We're Riding Along in Our Barrel<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90hkXcIr0-HVzHmz_hwRV9WUe9tOLmhl8aNuQ26_EdEk5cyVGuElQvepoE9FMAdvk7DW-y2ZKdiUfO3zqXo-1dL1OdgH60inar8fpvQ9Dt1tB_JQwJbwyjeryUURRyhEpqgxg6w/s1600-h/bm-image-763566.jpe"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90hkXcIr0-HVzHmz_hwRV9WUe9tOLmhl8aNuQ26_EdEk5cyVGuElQvepoE9FMAdvk7DW-y2ZKdiUfO3zqXo-1dL1OdgH60inar8fpvQ9Dt1tB_JQwJbwyjeryUURRyhEpqgxg6w/s320/bm-image-763566.jpe" width="320" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo">(You'll only understand the reference if you ever watched Wonderfalls. However, you are correct. This is the kickass plastic molded lion you get for a dollar at the zoo. Bewteen DTs, the little person, and I... I just don't know who was more enamoured with it. </p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-69775937825165118912007-07-13T14:32:00.001-04:002007-07-25T00:27:51.873-04:00Chicago Style<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwMqobl-sl-YLtdTZ6Eqkf40xFxsTa4blyM9asNeOas1XaUHNfHVURPn8ZK_kuPPc8QVplPCkNteKv6SuXPvbeguCZkwRrJcbFH3792aYKOaTfdAdrT1Y7nt5P6HMVubmR0aocUQ/s1600-h/bm-image-751884.jpe"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwMqobl-sl-YLtdTZ6Eqkf40xFxsTa4blyM9asNeOas1XaUHNfHVURPn8ZK_kuPPc8QVplPCkNteKv6SuXPvbeguCZkwRrJcbFH3792aYKOaTfdAdrT1Y7nt5P6HMVubmR0aocUQ/s320/bm-image-751884.jpe" width="320" /></a></p>Old Style and Wrigley. I'm in heaven.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-73492205183111453822007-07-09T13:56:00.001-04:002007-07-09T13:57:54.433-04:00Re-Lo-Ca-Tion!No one panic.<br /><br />I'm just <a href="http://urbanwanderlust.wordpress.com/">moving my blog </a>to a place with a little more functionality.<br />(this move comes after a year or more of noodling it. Honestly, it's just time. Also, I was able to have software move all my posts for me. I'm all about the lazy.)<br /><br />Please <a href="http://urbanwanderlust.wordpress.com/">update your bookmarks!</a>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-48456081161326800892007-07-05T21:28:00.001-04:002007-07-05T22:10:43.674-04:00lap of luxury<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/1079/1077/1600/z/270973/bm-image-739307.jpg"> <img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/1079/1077/320/z/509797/bm-image-739307.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo">I painted Paige's finger and toenails for the very first time this evening. It reminded me of many things... of my grandma tending to my needs as a little girl, of my own frustration keeping fingernails from smudging (as a little girl, and even now... even when I pay to have them professionally painted and dried, I inherently fuck them up.)</p><p class="mobile-photo">Mostly, I feel honored to pass down all these feminine rituals to another sassy, beautiful little woman. Paige had a haircut tonight too. Gotta love it when the ladies can live in the lap of luxury from the comfort of our own living room.<br /></p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-59670927199409576762007-07-05T21:26:00.001-04:002007-07-05T22:06:43.277-04:00oh those summer nights<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/1079/1077/1600/z/405600/bm-image-776414.jpg"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/1079/1077/320/z/595819/bm-image-776414.jpg" width="320" /></a></p>Bedtime tonight. Paige is sporting a new haircut (thanks to Sally Scissors... anthropomorphizing cutting implements is the only way to get the hair out of her face. I'll do what it takes; I'm just that kind of mom.)<br /><br />I remember my mom giving me popsicles on sticky summer nights like tonight... and while Paige was chowing down on this one, I had to capture the moment. It's been a total ladies' night... and I have to say, I think it's good for the soul to just hang out at home with your progeny every now and again.<br /><br />And who doesn't love Scooby-Doo macaroni and cheese for dinner. Really?Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-41972639141021833162007-07-05T15:48:00.000-04:002007-07-05T15:50:16.663-04:00I've started to do Pitchfork warmups<a href="http://spreadsheets.google.com/ccc?key=p1d6tEMFV-oMyJ17Q0Nxffg&hl=en_US">Set Times and Map.</a><br /><br />(yes, I put the information into my very own spreadsheet. Why yes, I am geeking out about indie rock, thank you very much.)Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-37948135572820240552007-07-05T09:53:00.000-04:002007-07-05T10:02:29.893-04:00hometown pride, upcoming events<a href="http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/page/news/43953-tapes-n-tapes-guy-keeps-quotidian-blog-just-like-you">Funniest thing</a> I've read on <a href="http://www,pitchforkmedia.com/">Pitchfork </a>in at least 6 months.<br /><br />Also -- it's my biased opinion that <a href="http://www.tapesntapes.com/">Tapes n' Tapes</a> are the ideal Minnesota summer band. Love those guys.<br /><br />(additionally, T minus one week from <a href="http://www.pitchforkmusicfestival.com/">Pitchfork</a>, can hardly believe it's (almost) here. So stoked to show the DTs around my 2nd-favorite city (not to mention the adventure of taking our bikes on the El) next week, spend some quality time with <a href="http://nordlunds.blogspot.com/">B, N, and Sanne</a>, drink 312 and listen to more indie rock than I can shake a plethora of sticks at.)Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-65909178026318148762007-07-03T11:01:00.001-04:002007-07-03T11:06:07.132-04:00God Bless America.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzBZJ_RNe35mcnw-KeA2Wfch7lPdV9aFpW70j72liuE2a905iQyxTUgpVpJfpjafYmidbfPXFNwxk3YNFNw9dJcfBkN3pzoK8Tzycn_9y8sf8PYh7F5tD1dpCzto5U6IlfYmcaA/s1600-h/4thcake2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082986102990300706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzBZJ_RNe35mcnw-KeA2Wfch7lPdV9aFpW70j72liuE2a905iQyxTUgpVpJfpjafYmidbfPXFNwxk3YNFNw9dJcfBkN3pzoK8Tzycn_9y8sf8PYh7F5tD1dpCzto5U6IlfYmcaA/s320/4thcake2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://dihasstories.wordpress.com/">Diana</a> points out a <a href="http://bakingbites.com/2007/07/red-white-and-blue-velvet-cake/">recipe </a>I'm going to make Thursday for my annual trip-to-blow-stuff-up-and-get-tan-as-my-form-of-patriotism (AKA, heading north to the cabin.)</div><div></div><div>Red white and blue velvet cake!</div><div>(those of you who know me may remember that I'm a big fan of red velvet cake...) </div><div></div><div>Any excuse to bake, be festive, and try something new. I'm totally going to make whipped cream frosting because it's summer, and not the heavy cream cheese business I put on <a href="http://daisyqueen.blogspot.com/">Jana's </a>birthday cake (delicious as that was).</div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-25735476083053116662007-07-03T10:50:00.000-04:002007-07-03T10:58:43.454-04:00eat it, hallmark.I semi-regularly read <a href="http://www.anonymouscoworker.com/">Anonymous Coworker</a>, and today (ish... when I checked the feed reader this morning) he writes a <a href="http://www.anonymouscoworker.com/2007/07/03/compelled/">little tribute </a>to his significant other. Which I love, and find dear and appropriate... even though I'm guessing most women (well, OK... the women I don't generally hang out with) wouldn't get it.<br /><br />I get it, and I think it's awesome (Shark-Riding Ninjas versus Cyborg Zombie Dinosaurs in the Superbowl? Now <em>THAT'S</em> a compliment.)Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-35872182018630403472007-07-02T12:57:00.001-04:002007-07-02T12:57:39.306-04:00How trouble starts.<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/terminallywanderlust/696532466/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1129/696532466_6891fafa7b.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/terminallywanderlust/696532466/">P1000092</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/terminallywanderlust/">terminallywanderlust</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> (we're walking to breakfast. You can't see the PBR in Jana's hand. But it's there.)</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-60314474544569220382007-07-02T12:54:00.001-04:002007-07-02T12:54:04.213-04:00quality time.<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/terminallywanderlust/695554071/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1069/695554071_b19ddaef69.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/terminallywanderlust/695554071/">P1000120</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/terminallywanderlust/">terminallywanderlust</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> 'nuff said. Sun, drinks, relaxation, friends. I'm in my element.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-38797499152622103792007-07-02T12:35:00.001-04:002007-07-03T14:56:08.101-04:00room. with a view.<div class="flickr-frame"><a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/terminallywanderlust/695673527/"><img class="flickr-photo" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1229/695673527_49b36ec767.jpg" /></a><br /><span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/terminallywanderlust/695673527/">P1000109</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/terminallywanderlust/">terminallywanderlust</a>.</span></div><p class="flickr-yourcomment">this photo summates the weekend. Sunshine, quality time with friends I love, south dakota countryside, frosty-cold beverages and relaxation.<br /><br />Blissful, I spent last weekend's mornings waking slowly to coffee, crackling embers in last night's bonfire smoldering, gently nudging me toward consciousness. My sunny South Dakota days were brimming with amaretto-laced slushies in the pool, bumming margaritas off strangers, an iPod dock that always played the right music, and sun-kissed freckles sprinkling themselves generously across my shoulders and nose. Those days melted into summer nights, laced with fireworks and magic, laughter, dancing with close friends and strangers. I floated between intimate conversations beneath a cherry tree, lighting fireworks between century-old barns, and screaming anthem rock at the top of my lungs, gravel wedged in my yellow flip-flops, sweaty strangers and bug-spray covered lovers arm in arm.<br /><br />I got on my bike this morning happy to be an urban girl, happy to live amongst the cars and the people and the bustle. But also refreshed and recharged and happy to know that I can always put on my country girl, run barefoot for days at a time, shower outside in freezing cold water, make a fire, sleep on the ground, and forego a manicure (and a hairbrush) to just enjoy living.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-42425063711334985702007-06-29T10:48:00.000-04:002007-06-29T10:50:05.378-04:00internet quote of the dayfrom <a href="http://jezebel.com/">Jezebel</a>:<br /><br /><a title="Posts tagged as donna karan" href="http://jezebel.com/gossip/donna-karan/" target="_blank" closure_hashcode_="3361">Donna Karan</a>'s new fragrance Delicious Night, is said to smell like "the magic of New York at night." Oh, Donna, trust us: New York at night smells like stale Parliaments, cheap wine, sweat, and, er, bad decisions. [<a href="http://www.wwd.com/issue/article/117016" target="_blank" closure_hashcode_="3362">WWD</a>, sub req'd]<br /><br /><br />Wait. That's what the magic of Lyndale Ave at night smells like. Except exchange stale parliaments for Camel Lights and cheap wine for the remnants of the bad lines at Mortimer's.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-34027620687096879322007-06-26T14:14:00.001-04:002007-06-28T14:49:13.890-04:00Take me out.<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/1079/1077/1600/z/650793/bm-image-796070.jpg"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/1079/1077/320/z/248086/bm-image-796070.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><p>so, how did you spend your tuesday afternoon? I'm getting my baseball on. And my sunburn. And a bellyfull of Summit. Ah, the summer life is good.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-31843961567688586192007-06-25T21:09:00.001-04:002007-06-28T14:49:29.949-04:00WIPs<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/1079/1077/1600/z/24142/bm-image-781135.jpg"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/1079/1077/320/z/222105/bm-image-781135.jpg" width="320" /></a></p>Ladies night!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-13434377010487099582007-06-25T11:17:00.000-04:002007-06-25T11:19:37.008-04:00Reasons why I like the balance of T and F in my ENTP personality.<blockquote>To handle yourself, use your head; to handle others, use your heart.<br />(Donald Laird)<br /></blockquote><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(don't know what the hell I'm talking about when I say ENTP? It's not a disease, promise. It's actually my </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myers-Briggs_Type_Indicator"><span style="font-size:85%;">Myers-Briggs personality type</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">.)</span>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-69829934050820473032007-06-22T17:14:00.001-04:002007-06-25T11:20:32.466-04:00tastes like grandma?<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/1079/1077/1600/z/574594/bm-image-790660.jpg"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/1079/1077/320/z/652532/bm-image-790660.jpg" width="320" /></a></p>Look... Tomacco!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-82814998663149167502007-06-20T15:31:00.000-04:002007-06-20T15:33:29.280-04:00local blogging: does a body (of community) good.Metroblogging (a twin cities blog collective to which I belong) <a href="http://http://www.swjournal.com/articles/2007/05/31/swjlife/life01.txt">gets mentioned in the SW Journal</a>.<br /><br /><br />I blog because I like to write... I'm not in it as my career and I'm not interested in 15 minutes of fame. But it feels nice to have a collaborative effort get some mention, anyway.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-79540019389593973012007-06-19T14:05:00.001-04:002007-06-19T14:32:55.013-04:00Life Lesson #4453: an urbanwanderlust PSA.<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/1079/1077/1600/z/105922/bm-image-722004.jpg"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/1079/1077/320/z/661269/bm-image-722004.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo">This is what happens when you mix a crazy family with a little sadness and perhaps a mojito. Don't let it happen to you.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-6421823491667223712007-06-18T16:45:00.000-04:002007-06-19T09:58:29.894-04:00mmm mmm good.<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/4571/701790668181150/1600/z/444016/bm-image-716828.jpg"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/4571/701790668181150/320/z/189358/bm-image-716828.jpg" width="320" /></a></p>Palm-sized strawberries make me smile.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-87212664215467338512007-06-18T15:52:00.001-04:002007-06-18T15:52:46.110-04:00additionally...<style type="text/css">.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }</style><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/red-headed-stepchild/210993809/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/80/210993809_fe4ddd0a03.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/red-headed-stepchild/210993809/">61</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/red-headed-stepchild/">Inflatigirl</a>.</span></div> <p class="flickr-yourcomment"> Some more rocks with history.<br />(Diana's, from Oxford... I was there, too. It was fabulous. And puts the history of the cabin rocks in a whole different light.)<br /><br />I'm (mostly) done being philisophical now.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-21379119455676564952007-06-18T09:15:00.000-04:002007-06-18T13:01:14.616-04:00Rocks<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2KjZrTc37wXwMy-Fx2Gr6ZBxd6sgUiDpXn2FIiAk_arNnniQoKiuFxDIebc6kTzHPxqxuoVE_UNc7sBMfCoa-5DqPrGi6H7SHTK68PkBk5q6f0FCOPkbizrzzXu5rHyRzpXiRKg/s1600-h/rocks.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077411593156936658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2KjZrTc37wXwMy-Fx2Gr6ZBxd6sgUiDpXn2FIiAk_arNnniQoKiuFxDIebc6kTzHPxqxuoVE_UNc7sBMfCoa-5DqPrGi6H7SHTK68PkBk5q6f0FCOPkbizrzzXu5rHyRzpXiRKg/s320/rocks.jpg" border="0" /></a> It's been one hell of a weekend, and it's made me think a lot about rocks.<br /><br /><em>(This photo is one of those Ireland pictures I took a year ago. Also weird to think it's been a year since I took that trip... and what I different woman I am today. All things good, but just strange to think what a difference one year can make in your life.)</em><br /><br />Why rocks, you say, Sarah?<br /><p>For one, I've had the pleasure to get to know people who are rocks. There's been a bit of death rolling around in my life as of late (3 funerals in 2 months. Well, at least I know, in all likelihood, I'm done for a while. Deaths always come in 3s). I look at the people who carry on after death -- and especially strong women like DTs grandma, who has buried 4 babies, a full-grown son, and now, 2 husbands... and I wonder how she's not a pile of catatonic goo. She's my hero, in many ways. And Diana is right ... you don't know what you can handle until it gets thrusted onto you ... but wow.</p><p>I'm also thinking of rocks that sit in the path you walk. Are they barriers? Are they detours? Are they there purposefully ... like milestones, maybe? And is someone else's milestone my barrier? Or vice versa? I don't have any answers to this. It just gets me to thinking.</p><p>On Memorial Day weekend, my family picked rocks at the (new) cabin. We stacked those rocks around the (new) cabin, in an effort to prevent erosion and to make the (new) cabin look a little more like it belongs there (right now, it just looks like an awkward giant mansion where my childhood forest used to sit). I always think of the lifespan of a rock when I pick it up... how much its seen that I will only read about in texts, how many future generations of Sarah Green progeny have the ability to pick it up and muse the same thoughts. It was also a bonding experience: all the Greens placing stones around a house that will carry our matriach and patriarch into their well-deserved retirement. A house that will become a home with time and memories. A resting place to enjoy children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, a place to be quiet and reflect. A place to enjoy the fruits of a lifetime of labor. We all reinforced that foundation; we all buttressed the place that will shelter the man and woman who shaped each of us. It was neat, and a bit poetic, and a bit dirty. Blue-collar and homegrown and honest. Just like the family I hold so dear.</p><p>DTs is trying to teach Paige how to skip rocks. And Paige started trying to skip rocks when my dad (AKA Papa) taught her how to throw rocks into the lake, as a way of getting her to not be scared of the water and a way to help her enjoy the lake when she can't be in her swimsuit. This gets me thinking about how much I want to give Paige -- that she deserves an army of interconnected people who love her -- and how, perhaps even though I angst about providing everything I can for her, giving her a better childhood, making better memories... in spite of (or is it because of) my angst ... she's got that army. And I think it's much more her doing than mine. But I still feel compelled to do everything I can to make sure she's absolutely surrounded by people who love and support Essential Paige, and ask nothing more of her than that. I have my moments of doubt about the job I'm doing, but she's turning out lovely in spite of me. So maybe that's saying something.</p><p>The rock in my sandal last night made me bike goofy all the way to Grumpy's (in the skirt I recently sewed). But I was sorta proud of biking through my neighborhood (in a skirt) anyhow. It make me feel smart and adorable and very Sarah. Plus, the u-lock clunking in the purse against my back made me feel all kinds of sexy.</p><p>Finally, I made strawberry jam in my sweet little kitchen yesterday afternoon to the artistic styling of Art Brut's Bang Bang Rock and Roll. I'm inherently domestic; I realize this, I embrace it. 40 pounds of strawberries, some in a coffee cake, a ton of them in jam waiting to be jarred, 5 or so pounds in the freezer, and a bowlful waiting to be dipped into farmer's market chocolate. Mmm summer.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8823863.post-49716272351687686132007-06-14T18:20:00.001-04:002007-06-19T09:57:35.211-04:00More Reasons I'm a Proud Mama.<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4571/701790668181150/1600/bm-image-701405.jpg"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4571/701790668181150/320/bm-image-701405.jpg" width="320" /></a></p>Rocking out to brother ali during rush hour...Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548092920774275878noreply@blogger.com0