community, parks, and recreation

After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I have embraced autumn and all it has to offer.  This change of heart may have something to do with the return of snuggling in cozy blankets in front of wood burning fires.  Since I currently live in a fireplace-less abode, the latter of my fall favorites requires some travel. 

A couple of weekends ago, with the rain coming down and the wind howling, I made the two or so hour drive over the border to my cousin's home in Connecticut.  It was a bit of a spur of the moment decision - well as spontaneous as I get these days with the juggling of jobs and studies – and I am so pleased with myself for making the trek.

image.jpg

 With a chill in the air and the rain decidedly drizzly and damp, Colin and I made our way to the grand opening of a few new trails in a tucked away corner of conserved land.  For a morning that begged to be spent indoors with copious amounts of coffee and lounging in flannel pajamas, there were a surprising number of people in attendance.   A hodgepodge group of 25 or so were all there for the same purpose – to ensure that green spaces would be available for all to enjoy.  We listened to short speeches about the importance of political engagement (to provide funding), preserving nature for future generations (as you do), and of course a few jokes to warm up the crowd with laughter.  At the conclusion of local dignitary introductions and applause for the responsible parties, a ribbon was cut and we were off down the trail to see what good had been done.  It may be a small park but it's a beauty and even boasts the ruins of a former sod operation.  On a former loading dock is a new mural painted by local high school students and if you look closely, you can see mounds from where the sod was once harvested.

image.jpg

Still decidedly damp but noticeably less drizzly, the afternoon was spent traipsing through an apple orchard and pumpkin patch.  Our group, now grown to four, scampered up and down the rows of trees with a little red wagon in tow.  We searched high and low for the best fruit, pretending to know the exact flavor differences between a Macoun and a McIntosh.  Pumpkins were carefully selected, including one from the patch (for authenticity) and one from the pile (for choosiness).  As we made our way back up the hill, even the dried flower house did not disappoint.  Each one of us convinced ourselves (and each other) that no fewer than three flower bunches were necessary for our respective homes.  

image.jpg
image.jpg

The owner of this haven has spent his entire life on this plot of land minus four years of college.  Before turning it into  an orchard, it was an organic farm run by his father that provided produce, eggs, and beef.  What had once been pastures and fields was now teeming with fruit and had remained an integral part of the town.  During our short time there, families from the neighborhood stopped by just to pick up a few groceries or spend some time together running up and down the rows of trees with their own little red wagons in tow before heading home.   

image.jpg
image.jpg

At the park and the orchard, I found myself wholeheartedly welcomed and invited to engage with people who a few moments earlier had been strangers.  Eye contact was easily initiated, preferred names were mostly learned, and snippets of life stories were openly shared.  Even though I am not a part of this community, I didn't feel like I didn't belong. Within 24 hours of leaving my urban home, I was questioning my day-to-day interactions (or lack there of) with the people who live in or visit my neighborhood. and so they got me thinking.  How few times have I made sure that they feel welcomed, that they are not outsiders, that they belong?  All too often, I spend my day with my head down, my mind running in a thousand different directions, and my feet scurrying to the next location as quickly as possible.  Rarely do I take the time to make someone feel a little bit more at ease, a little bit more welcome in this nonstop city I call home.  Perhaps it is time for that to change.

image.jpg

notes:

we went apple and pumpkin picking at wright's orchard in tolland, ct.  the owners are some of the friendliest people i've met and they've got a great selection of apples, squash, and dried flowers.  if you happen to be near hartford/manchester, be sure to swing on by and at the very least pick up some cider donuts.  the orchard and farm stand is open until christmas. 

i know.  you have all of these late season apples and an assortment of adorable pumpkins that you just couldn’t resist and now you are home and don’t know what to do with it all.   i recommend whipping those apples into some butter and mashing that pumpkin into the tastiest of loaves.  for the latter, actually follow the recipe.  if you are like me, this may be a very difficult task but trust me.  i used regular milk (because it's what i had) and the end product was a bit oily.  absolutely delicious but a bit of a hand to forehead moment. and no i am not vegan or even vegetarian but this lady and her food making ways transcend that. yes, another thing to just trust me on.

thoughts from my shower

Some days I don't realize what's really happened until I'm taking a shower. Does that ever happen to you? I don't know if it's the running water that soothes and closes off the rest of the world that allows for such clarity to seep in. Or perhaps it's that I finally stop thinking and give myself a break, and all of a sudden my mind is able to connect things together. Anyway, my conclusion: my most cohesive thoughts and clearest ideas often come in the shower. 

grace shower

Like the other day, I conned my sister to come over to my new place after work...luring her with wine, because I needed her to edit a project for me (she's so fancy like that). What happened? While cooking dinner and chatting, I drank all the wine and Em put together the Ikea couch I had stacked in piles in the corner. She saw it there- I had unpacked it, stacked it up, but obviously hadn't made an attempt to figure it out. I was fine with letting it sit there for days- I had conquered so many to-do lists with the move and my brain was quite fried. I was like: why are beads of sweat coming down her face? I didn't ask her to build it; she just did it. She knew it needed to be done, and, like a boss, took the task into her own hands. (note: I don't think there are many people who could have built this thing solo. Emily, folks...she's an assertive one.)

couch boxes

Every time I anticipate feeling overwhelmed with dealing with so many things by myself, I'm not alone. I've had different people swoop in to force me to purge clothes that for some reason I still have from my high school years in Georgia, accompany me as I unload and explore a new hood, eat cupcakes and champagne with me, send me links to all their favorite apartment ideas, organize me, dance with me, dream with me. Meg is like a mega organizer. Emily is a do-er. Caitlyn stopped by to eat lunch and catch up, and after our (delicious) kale salads, we were on the floor talking the highs and lows of relationships. Meanwhile, I didn't even notice that we were unpacking more boxes and building some lamps. (let there be light!) Like where did all of these angels come from?? Seriously?? #soblessed 

built couch

Who needs a boyfriend when your sister can set up your internet on your TV, build your couch and bed, edit your videos, and pick out your wine glasses at Ikea when you're in the middle of a sugar-crash-meltdown after eating 2 bags of Swedish Fish? (Guys, there's like soooo many rooms in that store before you get to the kitchen stuff. Ikea is exhausting. The BIGGEST sugar crash.)

ikea swedish fish

I've always (tried) to prioritize people in my life. I try not to be too distracted with my own world to pick up on when a friend needs me to hop on over with wine in my sweats or send the sensible text filled with messages that only emojis can express. I'm not perfect at it, but I crave to love those dear to me. And when I was in the shower at the end of that day exhaling all the grime-- all the sweat from my 6 layers of clothing I wore out in the snow after dance class and the wine stains that dripped on me accidentally throughout the evening and the residue red lipstick from the biz meeting at the top of the day... I'm like: oh, wait. I may live alone in this new apartment. But I'm not alone.

Oh how I'm loved. Oh how lovely is community and family. They show up to do one thing, and they take care of what needs to be taken care of.

It makes you suddenly realize after shampooing and conditioning your hair (I mean dreadlocks by the end of the day when scarves are involved, am I right?) -- maybe the love you give to others isn't going into the infinite abyss. And maybe the love and care given to me is not going there either. Maybeeeee the love given and received is noticed and it means something. We were planting lupine seeds and we didn't even realize it. It's this wonderful circle effect that I hope keeps on giving.

And on that cold snowy night, when the temperature was barely two digits and the sun was only shining several hours a day... there was so much warmth. I sat on a couch that was built with tunes playing on the TV that I couldn't figure out, drinking wine in my towel after this shower, and I exhaled months of stress. I found a new happy place. 

notes:

- a visit to ikea brooklyn can be a pleasant and cheap field trip. i'd suggest taking the free water taxi, planning to eat once you get there (especially if you're into meatballs), and avoiding the weekends.

- making good friends is not overrated. 

- don't let to-do lists rule your world.