Monday, September 14, 2009

The Weirdest Things...

The littlest, weirdest things make or break me.

I bought a cool cup this weekend. Make.
I overeat. Break.
Got (lovingly) made fun of for going to bed so early and let it affect me. Break.
Talked in my sleep and again got lovingly made fun of. Make.
Regular Sunday naps. Make.
Knowing that all my old friends are hanging out and growing closer to each other without me. Break.
High altitude running. Make.
Reliving highschool excitement over the MTV VMAs. Make.
Not sleeping well due to worry over sleeping in. Break.
Stressing about how easily I break. Break. Break. Break.

Steamboat Lake is absolutely one of my favorite places on earth! Charlie and I spend a lot of time outside, and have found a park near my dream neighborhood where we play soccer and frisbee every Sunday. This park is pristine: at the feet of the moutains, gorgeous green fields, and the same familes and pets seem to show up every week. It's the backyard of several homes in the neighborhood. Rachel Zoe may die for fabric and heels; I die for scenery like that.

When we're not together though, while Charlie is working on Saturdays for example, my time is usually divided between town, books and food. Recently I read the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and it was literary crack. I am so enchanted by farms and raising animals for reasons other than being pets, and I love the idea that maybe I might someday "live off the land" and "live closer to the earth." It's definitely a new goal of mine to have a garden everywhere I live, and while my first attempt here in Colorado has included only parsley and basil, my diet and soul have both been enriched by a life of planting, pruning, growing, picking and finally eating.

One of the draws of a simpler life - one out in the mountains, one spent weeding in my free time - is there is less energy for breaking. It takes a lot of life to constantly be breaking yourself down, life that could be enjoyed encouraging the seeds of joy and peace, pruning the wild branches of relationships and living off the rich spoils of a life lovingly tended.

A life lovingly tended. Make.

1 comment:

  1. Amykins, (I don't think I've ever called you that before, but someone clearly should). I love you lots and I miss you. I'm glad you're back to blogging so I can stalk and admire you from afar (since I'm clearly awful and keeping in touch the normal way). It's good to hear about your life... I'd love to see you sometime soonish... maybe when you move back to this state?