this is not that poem about the footprints in the sand

we saw many footprints when we were camping. maybe it's one of those things that you take notice of and then start to see everywhere, or maybe fall is unofficial footprint season.

we saw deer prints,


moose prints,


racoon prints,


and bear prints.


or maybe all these prints are made from bigfoot's special shoes he wears to throw off campers and photographers from the tabloids.

the edge of the earth

let's start at the very ending, a very good place to start.

leaving the campground before daylight, we hiked the barron canyon trail to visit the cliff's edge and watch the sun slowly, surely reach her warm arms down, waking and embracing every sleepy thing.

with jeremy's reassurance and the beat of my insides that long to be courageous, i scrambled forward, closer to the edge.


stopping to look now and then, eastward, at the tapestry of nature in all its complete and unforgiving splendor.


feet dangling over the edge, sun warming my face, husband behind me taking pictures, quietly waiting for me to get where i pushed myself to go,

in that moment i thought myself to be in heaven.

a wee windowsill snack

nuts and peaches and yogurt with honey.

what's so sweet about simplicity?

maybe the little bowls it's often served in.

happy two years!

JEREMY
geryando
gov'ner

what other weird names do we have for each other? okay well that first one isn't actually a weird name that's your real name that you came with when you were born. i am SO glad that you were born.

we talk about everything don't we? practical things like pickling and how to sew your favourite holy shirt but also big things like the universe and the truth (or untruth) of saying things like 'i'll always be with you'.

it's a natural human condition to ponder death and meaning when you love someone as much as i love you. are we morbid? or just really in love? a bit of both?

this year has been so big for us. you're almost done school, i started my shop, we're already daydreaming about our next big adventure...

i look around and see us in everything. you are entrenched in my being.

where would we be if not for each other? who would we be if we hadn't pondered this question, together, as we shared the binoculars and took turns counting jupiter's moons.

i am your moon. out in space i explore, fearlessly, knowing i'm held without boundaries. only the gravitational pull of Big Love.

the harvest brings pumpkins (and jared geller)

i feel like all my favourite people come to visit in the fall. steph was just here, my mom's coming next month and strapping young jared came from chicago last weekend to walk around with yours truly in the october sun.

usually we meet at a pub over beers but i couldn't help shake the desire to spend our time this visit, with large cups of tea and copious amounts of walking.

maybe it was my new poncho that begged for time outside.


or maybe this cookie called to us from its wicker basket holdings at petite thuet bakery, still warm and soft from the oven.

whatever the reason our usually stationary visit turned mobile and the conversation fluttered from thing to thing as conversations do between old friends, as leaves do when falling whimsically but purposely from the branches of the tree.

thanks for coming, jared! thanks for existing in the world and for being part of mine.

rays of light

steph came to visit.

we went to wedding dress stores and she tried some on and she chose the most beautiful for her upcoming occasion of love.

other than twice when i thought about my own wedding day and the inability to explain the symbolic importance of such a frock, i was completely present and completely happy to be so.

how do we share these moments with anyone but each other? how do we thank the stars for bringing us together? how do we say i love you so it sounds different, as it should, when i'm saying it to you?

all life is a quest for great loves. that which we share is one of the greatest.

mindfulness.

"this being human is a guesthouse. every morning is a new arrival. a joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor.

welcome and entertain them all! even if they're a crowd of sorrows who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honourably. he may be cleaning you out for some new delight.

the dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in.

be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond"

the guesthouse - rumi - 1207-1273

centre island (family outing)

snail

when i saw you there, unwilling to move from the wreckage of your fallen friend, i thought about size and my incorrect assumptions on your capacity to grieve.

i picked you up from the sad shells strewn on the concrete ground and you strained your fleshy foot away; one last gesture of your reluctance to let go.

i hope you know i sympathize; sometimes the only way forward is standing still.

beauty.

"go outside, to the country, enjoy the sun and all nature has to offer. go outside and try to recapture the happiness within yourself; think of all the beauty in yourself and in everything around you and be happy".

anne frank, the diary of a young girl

fall's fool.

it's getting to be that season! the fall one with the bright colours and the vegetable harvest and the charmingly rustic tractors, pleading silently to be photographed.

and while there's no denying the melancholy of summer's last gentle touches, fall is irrefutably my favourite time of year.

on a bicycle built for one

i think this is one of those posts where most people reading will be all like, DUH, YEAH OF COURSE, but i'm going to go ahead and preach to the choir anyways because this chorus member just joined.

BIKING IS LIBERATING.

in particular, biking ALONE is liberating.


jeremy is an amazing bike riding partner and for four years he's waited for me at the bottom of hills while i brake my way down with teeth clenched. it's certain, in fact, that i could never have ridden alone without his patient and encouraging support.

ain't that the beauty of love? that it pushes you away from dependancy and towards this place of self actualization?


i met jessica at a fork on the lower don trail on thursday. i arrived at the meeting spot early, not knowing how long it would take me and anticipating wanting to take some pictures to document my first solo trek.

i'm making it sound like i did the mountain leg of the tours de france and maybe for me, it meant something similar.


i had my mouth open in awe the whole time, (until i ate a bug), and i must have looked new because more than one cyclist asked me if i was okay, but gosh darn it i did it.

and i feel like an emancipated woman. freed from the shackles of cars and public transportation. and from my fear which obviously can't be trusted after keeping me from something so cool.


my bike and jessica's bike like each other. jessica's bike gets ridden a lot but never holds that over my bike's head. instead she is kind and accepting and finds my bike's spastic enthusiasm charming.

ring your bells! wear your helmuts! bike ride into a future dependent only on the power of you! and a husband who waves from the window while you glide down the driveway.

lunch break, at the office.

i dream of darwin (and the dream came true)

something wonderful has happened. something i started thinking about almost a year ago when i woke up from the kind of dream that pinches your backbone in a playful but pushy kind of way.

i had imagined myself a business.


i'd make animals out of second hand clothes, some small, some big, and i'd sell them online in a shop i'd call 'i Dream of Darwin'. everything would be inspired by nature, as an homage to how nature inspires me. i'd make stories about the animals to please my writing bone and i'd kiss them each, one time, square on the nose which is the thing that's missing from machine manufactured stuffs and will never once be missing from mine.

and last weekend, my shop opened!


many things inspired me to make this happen, a purchase i made on etsy, a dear friend at work i'd confided in early on, my best friend, my husband, my idle hands itching for some purpose. my younger self sitting in my memory, making robots out of wood and three legged dogs out of my mom's expensive fabric.

and perhaps the biggest inspiration was a desire for a handmade dialogue with the universe, for a connection to be forged with the things that i create and the place that they end up. me to you and something stitched between.


it took a year for many reasons, i had a plan mapped out at first but the organized manner of it felt funny to me. i wanted to enjoy all the steps including the beginning and pushing it forward according to a timeline felt like a cousin to the office job and a stranger to the creative process. i wanted to explore. try different things. watch as a style emerged, then make attempts that went against it.

i wanted to covet all my creations.

for a while i was striving for completion - i needed more things made, i needed large numbers of inventory, i needed to land on one style and unify everything into a packaged, clever little bow. realizing now that an end point will hopefully never come, i've based my shop on a philosophy of creation and exploration and an active, present engagement with my world and my way to explore it - through pieces unique, handmade and inspired by the natural world.


i hope you like it! i hope it speaks to you! i hope it inspires you to do something weird of your own and i hope you pass it on to your network of dreamers, the friends who'd most appreciate a hand-made narwhal in their lives.

isn't that just all of us? cleverly disguised under adult clothing? i had a dream it might be so.

the motion of objects through space

if time is something you invented to mark life’s sequence of events,

what is passing if not seconds?

what is waiting if not us?

i hear a penitent click on the wooden clock and think,

there is no click,

there are no seconds,

the future is an island where we send our one-day selves, that they may live there peacefully and work to learn their worth.