Sunday, July 10, 2011

i dream of paris...




So i can't get enough of Paris... I dragged Shane to the movies a couple days ago to see Midnight in Paris & it was totally worth seeing if not for just the beautiful Paris itself. The city played a huge and beautiful character in this movie & deserves an academy award for it's performance.. it was breathtakingly beautiful! I about died... and now I am reading a novel I picked up today at B&N called The Paris Wife by Paula Mclain that tells the story of Ernest Hemingway's first {of 4} marriage which is set in Paris in the 1920s! Love it! {actually i'm only on chapter 4 & its a little slow going} but i'm a bit obsessed with that current time and place because the movie touches during that time as well. Have you seen it? or read this book? what did ya'll think?

Frustration!

very frustrated and irritated right now with blogger! for some reason, for a while now, i am not able to comment on other blogs!! is says i have to sign into an account. I'M ALREADY SIGNED INTO MY GOOGLE ACCOUNT PEOPLE! and even after i sign into my account AGAIN, it will prompt me to sign in AGAIN AND AGAIN... frustration. the other day i was able to comment one ONE blog... frustration. whats wrong!!

Friday, July 8, 2011

a girl who reads



I recently stumbled onto a blog and saw this post, stolen from this blog, & I decided it needed to be stolen again...

Date a Girl Who Reads

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by God, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

Written by Rosemary Urquico

Friday, July 1, 2011

let freedom ring








Today Shane and I are headed back home for my small town's annual hot dog supper & 4th of july parade. ah yes, I love growing up in a small town. Everyone have a happy 4th of july weekend. I'll be at hospital all weekend but excited to be off monday for the 4th with my hubs! This country is so blessed, let freedom ring!

Thursday, June 30, 2011

so happy together





Source: etsy.com via Lisa on Pinterest






lately i've felt so loved. and it seems like i've fallen in love with my husband all over again. he just makes my heart smile...


and i never want to take that for granted... ever.


life is too short...

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

today you are you



*****

because i'm not some disney princess

i'm not elizabeth bennett or carrie bradshaw

i'm not even anne shirley. i'm not my fabulous older sister, bess

or that skinny girl at the beach i saw last week

i am not that girl from that fabulous blog who travels the world

i am me and you are you

and some days i just need that reminder

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Officially Summer

Well folks, summertime is here officially. I'd say unofficially, summer arrived weeks ago. But officially, the calendar tell us those hot, dog days are here to stay.



Summertime: Billie Holiday



After a day of working this past Sunday, Shane and I made our way through the thick evening heat to mom & dad's for a small & quiet impromptu father's day celebration {officially my fam is celebrating his special day this coming weekend because my siblings were scattered}, but my oldest sister decided to surprise him by driving down and cooking him a steak dinner just to show some extra love {since officially it was father's day}. So Shane and I decided to make a slight detour after picking me up from work to get in on the little celebration. We arrived in time for dessert: blackberry cobbler, one of my families all time favorite.


The blackberry cobblers my mom makes are special in that each one holds special memories. Memories of my childhood summers when the time was just right to head across the pond to the "coastal field" {as we always called it} for some blackberry picking. I can remember mom waking my 4 sibling and me up just before daybreak {usually with a frown and a grumble on our breath}, explaining she'd thank us when we were through. So groggily we'd pull on our old jeans and tennis shoes and head to our field where the wild blackberries grew. After giving us each a small container we'd start a'pick'n just as the sun came over the horizon. Sometimes the bushes would be heavy with large plump fruit, other years when it had been very dry they'd be slim pickin's literally. I especially remember my inner competitor coming out in seeing if I could fill my container the fastest or how many times I'd empty it into the larger bucket usually sitting close to mama. And of course there was the shouts of triumph to the group as one displayed an especially large and juicy berry prior to popping it into our mouths without remorse. But we'd always walk away a couple hours later with a few scratches, a couple bug bites, many stained fingertips and a sense of accomplishment. Then it was back to the house to wash them and, for the majority, pack them away in the freezer for another time.


Its been many years since I've been blackberry picking. And our coastal field no longer holds our wild back berry bushes but large chicken houses built by my uncle. So when mama explained that she'd used her last berries from the freezer on this pie, there was a little tug on my heart as I realized that I was eating the last bit of fruit from our labors. At that moment I wished mom had gotten me up early a couple more summer mornings. But my heart and memory thanked her too, as I she said we would & have many times over, as I took another bite, this one perhaps even sweeter than the last.