We awoke early this morning
as the brilliant sun was stationed at the horizon

It then held on tight to the wisps of the clouds,
came into view, and warmed our faces

A bud, a hop, a chirp
It beckons us outdoors

A morning run, an afternoon ride
A spur of the moment walk

The sun, the sun
It unleashes the heart, moves the spirit,
and casts light into the darkness

Eery Weather

It was an eery morning here in DC. Windy, sunny, cloudy, patches of rain. And then, for ten seconds, it sleated. Or was that snow? Now the sun is coming out, shining and sparkling through the office buildings, and the temperature is rising. What time of year is it again?

Last night it was warm, around 50 degrees. We even turned on the air conditioner.

But, I wanted it to be cold, bitter cold. I wanted to curl up by a fire, sip hot chocolate, and read a book. I wanted it to snow and for us to be stranded inside. My sister called from Massachusetts the other morning, school had been cancelled due to a massive snow storm. No snow here, just warm weather in the middle of January!

This weather is somewhat unnerving. Too hot for stews and soups, but not warm enough for salads and fruit. Tim and I are not sure if we are to clean off our porch furniture, or hunker down for a big snowstorm. As Longfellow suggests, it is a restless feeling at the end of the day, not a fervent summer's eve or a tranquil winter's night.

The Day Is Done
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me,
That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life's endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

I have been thinking a lot lately about art, and our ability to create. The knitting swatch above is neither perfect or even beautiful, but it is art. In Walking on Water, Madeleine L'Engle wrote, "The discipline of creation, be it to paint, compose, write, is an effort towards wholeness."

We all seek roundness, wholeness, completeness. From a very young age we are encouraged to be "well-rounded." And we all deep down desire the innocence of imagination.

But L'engle is touching on something deeper. She goes on to say, "...I dreamed that a friend reached into a fireplace and drew out a living coal and held it in his hand, looking at its radiance, and I wondered at him because he was not burned. I may be that we have lost our ability to hold a blazing coal, to move unfettered through time, to walk on water, because we have been taught that such things have to be earned; we should deserve them; we must be qualified. "

Yet, we have been given a precious gift...a gift to dream, to heal, to re-create.

"Creativity opens us to revelation, and when our high creativity is lowered to 2 percent, so is our capacity to see angels, to walk on water, to talk with unicorns."

Artichokes

It is no secret that I love food. But what I have come to find out, is that I love cooking as well. And, I love reading about cooking. I thoroughly enjoyed Under the Tuscan Sun, Bella Tuscany, and Julie and Julia. And I recently bought Tender at the Bone...and I cannot wait to read it.

The challenge, completing the task at hand, the comfort, not thinking about anything else in the world except for when to turn the fish, the ease: all these things I love about cooking. Food is intriguing and each vegetable or spice plays a part in what becomes a wonderful meal.

I love artichokes. Isn't is weird that we can eat something that looks so strange? And who was the first person to eat an artichoke heart and determine that it was sweet? Did they get the little hairs caught in their teeth the first time the sunk into the heart?

The best artichoke I ever had was from a road-side stand on the highway from San Fran. to Carmel, California. I was on my honeymoon, and we were making our way down the California coast, stopping at gorgeous lookouts and farm stands along the way. It must have been artichoke season (or maybe it always is there) because these artichokes were luscious and grand, and delicious! We steamed them with some mayonaisse on the side. Delightful!



The ones I made the other night were not quite as good, or tender and sweet, but they still do the trick and remind me of that wonderful dinner in California. Maybe that is why I love cooking and food so much. Because a meal, or a taste, can easily rekindle a memory, or make a new one.

Knitting, not what it used to be.

Well it is official. I now own a pair of knitting needles. Actually, they are more like smooth pieces of wood, but that is besides the point.

I got up the nerve to walk into Stitch DC on Sunday afternoon, just as the store was closing. It is one of those stores where I always felt you needed to look a certain way, dress a certain way, or they will send you on your way because you just aren't "knitting material."

But knitting has changed, and knitters have changed as well. You no longer need the rocking chair and frock to go along with the wad of yarn by your side. As I creaked open the door, I looked around. The other shoppers in the store were hip and wore leather jackets instead of long cumbersome skirts. And the store was, well, cool. The yarn is displayed in modern blocks. There are chairs and sofas lining the walls from West Elm, Ikea, and Design within Reach.

This made me more confident as I walked through the door in my Sevens jeans and cute tight Nike top. I approached the cashier, "Umm...I'd like to knit a blanket. A really soft one, like for a baby." The cashier, instead of laughing in my face, cocked her head to the side and with a faint smile replied, "How about a scarf?" I took this as I should, agreed with her (who was I to question?), and told her I didn't have anything to knit with. She then led me to the back of the store where she picked out a book, needles, and yarn...gently placing each one in my hands as she glided throughout the store.

And just like that I became a knitter. Well, not exactly just like that. After paying she kindly sat me down on the modern hip sofa (where I assume they take all girls like me who want to be cool and knit but have no clue where to start) and showed me how to caste and knit. I was told to practice over and over, count my rows, and make a 21 by 21 block.

This I have yet to do, even after taking the needles home and sitting on my not so cool sofa at home while watching football. I wasn't really watching football, but in order for my husband to enjoy watching football I need to sit next to him and pretend I am watching football, while having some tasty beverage in my hand. I think it must be something about the communal aspect of football; one cannot enjoy a game by himself. Yet, whether it was my husband constantly tapping me on the shoulder and pointing to the tv exclaiming, "Did you see that? Wow, what a great play," Or "That is the worst call ever," Or the tasty beverage in my hand, I have not been able to finish a 21 by 21 practice swatch.

Still only being two days out from purchasing all my new knitting tools (and placing them in my cute Vera Bradley bag) I am not that worried about my prospects of knitting a 21 by 21 swatch. However, I am having a hard time staying focused on the task at hand. I still want to knit a blanket, not a scarf or even a 21 by 21 square block. A blanket is what I would like to knit. But, since running can be applied to most everything in my life, I remember that we should set our eyes on short distances, and accomplish those before we run our first marathon. So...this week I am determined to knit my 21 by 21 square swatch and become a new hip knitter.

"Will the future ever arrive?...Should

we continue to look upwards? Is the

light we can see in the sky one of those

which will presently be extinguished?

The Ideal is terrifying, to behold, lost

as it is in the depths, small, isolated,

a pin-point, brilliant but threatened

on all sides, by the dark forces that

surround it; nevertheless, no more

in danger than a star in the jaws of the

clouds."

Victor Hugo

Tim and I saw Les Miserables last night at the National Theatre. The performance was absolutely extroidonary...a wonderful story of sacrifice, love, forgiveness and mercy.

New Years Weekend

 

Workout update: A Week of Running and Swimming

"For me, running is a lifestyle and an art. IÂ’m far more interested in the magic of it than the mechanics."
Lorraine Moller, Olympic Marathoner

This week I totaled 21 miles running, 5 miles walking, and was able to swim twice. It was great to be able to run outside in the mild weather that blanketed Pennsylvania this week. Also, to get in a pool and stretch my muscles and swim was incredible. I am not training for anything in particular right now, but I am lining up my races for next year: the Cherry Blossom Ten-Miler, maybe the St. Patricks Day 10k, and hopefully a sprint triatholon this summer.

Today, Cynda and I ran the 6 miler loop of Peace Valley Park in Doylestown, PA. The path dipped up and down weaving in and out of woods along a man-made lake. We got the run in right before the rain started.

I know I have mentioned this before, but running, walking, swimming, or any type of exercise is a great release for me...moments of contemplation, of pushing your body, of seeing results...and a path to better mental health. The ability to get out and experience this every day this week was in a way very "magical."

Wishing everyone a festive and safe night!

A Quick Note on Families

Desmond Tutu once said, "You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them."

For some reason I feel that even if I could have selected my family, I would not have been wise enough to put together such a wonderfully unique group of individuals. This week Tim and I travel to both sides of our families. Despite partiality, our families are certainly filled with special people...people who are gifts from God. Living with one other person of the same age for three years, I have forgotten how much I learn from those younger and older than me, and what a delight it is to be in their company.

Again, safe travels to everyone this holiday season.

Our Light and Our Life

We have arrived at our holiday destination, Sewickley, Pennsylvania. We will stay here for several days....days of reading, running, dinner chats, catching up with family, listening to Christmas music, and sitting by the fire.

Wishing you all a wonderful Christmas, a restful and relaxing holiday, and many precious memories with family and friends.

"There were sheepherders camping in the neighborhood. They had set night watches over their sheep. Suddenly God's angel stood among them and God's glory blazed around them. They were terrified. The angel said, "Don't be afraid. I am here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, worldwide: A Savior has just been born in David's town, a Savior who is Messiah and Master. This is what you are to look for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger." The Story of Jesus' birth, told by Luke. Version: The Message.

* To my family further east down the turnpike...I will miss you all very much. I hope that you have fullfilling days of fun, food, laughing, and conversation. I love you!

Weekend in Doylestown, PA

Preserved House on the Worthington Farm

"Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul." John Muir

Muir, who was actually born in Scotland but made his mark on US soil, was the voice for the protection of Yosemite and other parks and environmental areas. Although his organization, the Sierra Club, is loathed by many today and rather radical, Muir's ability to see the importance of nature to man's soul WAS rather radical for his time. Muir Woods, a beautiful 12 mile expanse of redwoods on the pacific coast near San Francisco is named after Muir. This fairy tale forest has miles of trails that rejuvinate and give strength. Tim and I visited Muir Woods on our honeymoon and spent hours climbing up and up on the trails until you get glimpses of sea.

Recently I have been relying on the outdoors to give me strength. Spending a day outside walking and running in Doylestown, PA did more for me than three night's sleep. Walking around the Worthington's farm, attempting to run on a iced path, and running up and down hills of nothing but grass and farmland was incredibly soothing and in a way spiritual. I have always felt closest to God outside running, feeling my muscles move in and out, back and forth.

There are several places where I feel this even more (I think Geoff once time called these places something, but I can't remember now): On the streets of my parents neighborhood in Havertown, Pennsylvania; in Maine as I smell the pine trees; on the golf courses and beaches of Carmel; on the streets of misty England and Ireland; and along the lakes of the Adirondacks. I am always thankful that God has given us these places, these times and moments away from everyday life. They motivate us, change us, and give us strength.

Below are pictures from our weekend in Doylestown, PA.

The Worthington Farm

Dusted Candles and Moravian Stars

A Muddy Sherman

A Worthington/Meffen Christmas

Worthington Decorations

Kuyper

I have been trying to keep my head above water the last couple of weeks. Running from Christmas event to Holiday party, dinners with family, weekends with friends, packing and unpacking, weddings and more weddings, checking out interns, and work. This morning my head is spinning.

We didn't even put up a Christmas tree this year...there was not much time. And going to the Home Depot in the middle of DC, literally dodging bullets on our way and trying to pick out a Christmas tree, pay for it, and put it on our car before someone steals our car did not sound like fun this year. I didn't even get a wreath.

I did however get a balsam fur candle. Our friends joke with us. Everytime Cody comes over he says, "Wow, your tree smells so good."

To compensate for our lack of Christmas flair in our apartment, I have been hijacking the comfort of lighted trees and wreaths from friends and my office building. This weekend I stared at my friends gorgeous Christmas tree and her decorations, on some level thinking they were mine, thinking about putting the lights up and the ornaments on.

When I run in the evenings on the Capitol Mall, I stare at the Christmas tree in front of the Capitol and pretend it is in my living room. It looks beautiful against the backdrop of the Capitol. When I walk into my office at work I stare at the wreaths on the doors, pretending I put them there, pretending they are hanging on my door at home.

It is the event of cutting down a tree, hanging a wreath, and decorating that I miss. The hot chocolate and Christmas music in the background as you seperate your ornaments and gently place each one in its proper spot on the tree.

I am not even half way done with my Christmas shopping. Tim and I are both looking at a long week at work. Congress is still in, wrapping up business before they depart as well. We are also both trying to fit in workouts...preparation for long days of eating ahead.

Have you ever looked forward to just driving in a car? To not thinking, doing, or acting...to just being? I am looking forward to driving to Pittsburgh, then on to Philadelphia and Doylestown. I am looking forward to staring out the window...praying for things and people who pop into my head, listening to books on tape, talking with Tim. And I am looking forward to tomorrow, when life will hopefully slow down.

"Relying on God has to begin all over again every day as if nothing had yet been done..."--C. S. Lewis, from a letter "To Mrs. L."

A Wonderful Life in Roanoke

The past couple of days have included a lot of friends, family, and eating! Becca came to town. We all walked arm in arm to the restaurant and home, sheilding the wind and cold. We had a wonderful dinner and conversation...I could have talked for hours more.

Friends came to town the next day. We were all gathering to drive down to Roanoke to see our friend perform in A Wonderful Life. The drive was beautiful, we were guided by the mountain range. We were constantly laughing...the kind of hard laughter that is silent and makes you cry... the laughter that only comes from years of knowing someone and feeling comfortable. It was so nice to be around close friends. A warm feeling, a constant warm hug, one that makes you smile.

A Wonderful Life was well, wonderful. The music and singing were difficult yet the actors and actresses all played their parts extremely well. Some of us got teary eyed at the end. It is such a wonderful story with a meaningful and important message.

We walked around the streets of Roanoke. They were decked in holiday color, lights, and decoration. It was a great way to ring in the Holidays.

First snow in Washington, DC