Since around December, I’ve been grappling with a pretty hardcore writer’s block. I found it difficult to find the time and energy to write, when I was working so hard to promote Blameless Mouth’s release. And then I got pregnant and any sort of physical energy that remained flew out the window.

Now that my fatigue is subsiding, I desperately want to get back to writing. However, I feel like I don’t remember how to practice writing. I know it involves pen, paper, time, and ideas, but I feel like I was lacking the time and idea. Also, my last journal was getting full.

So, last Monday, I spent some time making a new journal. I had a lot of images going through my mind, but I settled on the colored squares. The phrase on the lower right “Remember Every Little Piece” is  a reminder for me to record this moment in my life, as I’ve recorded so many others. Instead of writing, I’ve been living a lot in my head, without any output. I would love to be able to look back and have a physical record of what was going on in my life at this time.

Hopefully, this reminder will serve me well. The journal has already worked it’s magic and I’ve already written two and a half poems, which I’ll post over the next few days.

*More pictures are up on my Flickr.

Last week, my husband and I took a spring break trip to Palm Desert, California to visit my dad. As luck would have it, my brother and his girlfriend had an overlapping trip, so I got to see a big chunk of my West Coast family all at once. It’s so rare that I get to see them at all, let alone at the same time, that I was truly grateful for the time.

One of my requirements for visiting this year was to take Aaron to Joshua Tree National Park. When I visited my dad about two years ago, we went to Joshua Tree. It was the middle of winter and nothing was in bloom, but it was still beautiful. At the end of March, with wildflower season approaching, it was breathtaking.

The desert landscape is (now) so foreign to me, so I felt like I was visiting another planet. The cholla cacti, boulders, and mountains looked alien to me, since my part of the country was still covered in snow. Aaron and I traveled from the northern part of the park, through to the south exit, so we saw both cacti and wildflowers in one trip. I love having the opportunity for these kinds of trips with him.

Despite the extreme heat (101 degrees on the hottest day – 60 degrees above Minnesota weather), we both had a great time. Now that we’re back to wearing hoodies and scarves, I am craving a little more time in the sun. Hopefully, the Minnesota spring will start…any day now.

On Monday, I spent way too much of my morning in my bathtub, rereading the SARK book Eating Mangoes Naked. If you haven’t read it yet, I highly recommend it.

In that book, she has a section where she lists a litany of pleasures that she sends her readers. I love the list and I love the sentiment, so in honor of that list, here is my own.

I wish for you hidden hearts, found where you least expect it.
I wish for you rain rather than snow and sun rather than rain.
I wish for you a whole day watching a weepy movie on your couch, flanked by your favorite animals.
I wish for you weekends filled with few obligations and many opportunities for rest.
I wish for you sunlight in a small spot on your floor, in the perfect size to sit and bask.
I wish for you early asparagus, green onions, and peapods.

Thanks to Beth’s recent post on her blog, I found a post over at Georgia’s new to me blog it’s just how i see things that i just fell in love with. So, imitation being the sincerest form of flattery, I wanted to share the same content with you.

The below videos are a charming little story about an adventure one man in Brooklyn took when he found a film canister in a park. The tone is very This American Life,  and I loved the direction that his life took when he was confronted with a little mystery. I hope that you take the time to watch them!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

My best quality proof of Blameless Mouth, headed to the Library of Congress for my LLCN confirmation

When I am grateful, I make a cheesy iPod playlist, full of songs about redemption and underdogs.  I am embarrassed by some of the additions.

When I am grateful, I find it impossible to concentrate. I float from task to task, leaving dishes undone and emails unanswered. I lose things: my wallet, my bus pass, my phone. Some of them get recovered.

When I am grateful, I talk about my gratitude over and over. I mutter thank you under my breath. I am giddy. I am sure I get under the skin of everyone I encounter.

When I am grateful, I slow down, if only for a day or two. I live in the moment, choose to savor the feeling. I save it for later, for days when I argue with others, for when the cat vomits on my afghan again. I carry my gratitude in my pocket, like a shiny quarter, careful not to spend it.

When I am grateful, I live in a state of awe and disbelief. I have to confirm, again and again, that yes, this is really happening. It has happened. It may happen again.

When I am grateful, I soften. My mind ceases its mechanical whirring, it’s clicks and starts. I become someone else, if only for a moment, a woman who breathes and feels humble.

***

In the past two days, I have done all of these things. I am so astounded and humbled by the response to the release of Blameless Mouth this week. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

During this past weekend, Aaron and I visited our good friend Laurel and her husband. These two awesome people have moved back to Wisconsin from Arizona and we have been lucky enough to see them four times in the past year, which is way better than 2 times in the preceding five years.

While we had a glorious time throughout the whole weekend, watching a play in the cold, attending Zumba class, and visiting a local craft fair, my favorite activity was my very first trip to the apple orchard. Even though I’ve lived in the Midwest for 18 years now, I have never in my life visited an apple orchard. I don’t know what I’ve been waiting for all this time.

In our short time at Door Creek Orchard, we traveled up and down rows and rows of apple trees, heavy with fruit. The branches were bowed from the heft of the Haralson, Cortland, Empire, and Golden Delicious apples. (I love these varietal names.) The staff encouraged us to taste apples before we bought, so we picked apples fresh off the trees and started eating. There is something that is so simple and beautiful about eating an apple straight off the tree, on a day when the wind is just cold enough to sting.

Unfortunately, most of my pictures did not turn out well, because my new camera didn’t handle the overcast sky’s light. So, you should visit Laurel’s recently re-vamped blog to see some truly great pictures that her husband took. You should also celebrate her triumphant return to blogging, because the world needs more blogs like Simple Spoonful.

Lately, I have been busy. I am coming out of one of the busier times of year at work, the time when we welcome back faculty and students and begin the business of the college. My schedule is just finally settling down, after picking up considerably in mid-August. The funny thing is that I can trace the exact point when my job started to get busy, by looking at the output of my creative work. As usual, I retreat from my creative work during heavy times at my day job.

I am no longer surprised by this fact. It’s the way that my life is, working in a non-creative field and having a creative passion or two. The challenge for me is that whenever I am not creating, and I finally have enough time to notice, I start to feel a little stuck. I forget how to be an artist, once my artistic time is available. I lose track of writing projects, I retreat from my blog, and I forget to pick up my camera when something catches my eye.  And then I have to spend so much time unsticking myself, that the process of unsticking becomes more important than the process of making or doing or being.

This time, I want to just start working again. I want to start holding myself accountable to my art again. I want to get back to creating.

I think I am just going to start small. I am going to try to do one creative act each day. I don’t have to produce a finished product, I just have to do one small thing to honor my creative process. I am going to hold myself accountable in my usual electronic means, posting my results here when they feel worthy and listing a summary of my creative acts for each week, on Sundays.

I am hoping that I will find that squeezing one creative act each day will lead, once again, to cramming larger creative work back into my life.

Goodbye cheap tomatoes.
Goodbye waking up after the sun rises.
Goodbye taking walks in the dusk at eight p.m.
Goodbye not feeling tired.
Goodbye sunburned noses.
Goodbye sweating in the shade.
Goodbye vacations…and vacations…and vacations.
Goodbye grilling on the  rooftop.
Goodbye seemingly endless free time and energy.
Goodbye flip flops.
Goodbye tank tops.
Goodbye leaving the house without a hoodie (or heavier coat).
Goodbye watermelon.
Goodbye corn.
Goodbye spending more time outside than in.
Goodbye.

Today marks my fifth wedding anniversary with my husband, as well as our thirteenth anniversary overall. If our marriage were a child, he would be going to kindergarten and telling poop jokes. If our entire  relationship were a child, she would be slamming doors, dying her hair blue and rolling her eyes at us. Put another way, Aaron has been my partner for more than a third of my life. I would have it no other way.

I am especially grateful for our anniversary this year, because I know that my husband and I faced extraordinary challenges this year. For approximately eight months of this year, he nursed me through my knee injury and surgery. He took the “sickness” part of “in sickness and health” seriously. The best part is that he did this without complaint and with great patience, kindness, and love.  I am lucky to have his support in my life.

This year, he also pushed the both of us to do more with our writing and art. He formed and maintained a writing group, supported me while I wrote a chapbook manuscript, and encouraged me to do more with my photography and collage art. I am blessed to have a husband who is so talented and who challenges me to nurture my own writing.

The scary (and awesome) part of marriage is that you never know what will happen in your lives. You don’t know if you’re going to make it, as a couple. You can only work and try and hope. I am so grateful that Aaron is willing to work and try and hope with me, after all these years. His effort and his love have never wavered. I love you, Aaron.

I heard a rumor that folks were posting a Simple Things today, in honor of Christina’s birthday. I actually found Christina’s blog through her Simple Things meme, but came to be a regular reader, because I love having a shot of positivity (and beautiful photography) in my Google reader on a regular basis. And like with all good blogs, I ended up discovering other blogs I enjoy, just by reading hers. So, thank you Christina & happy birthday!

And now for my summer edition of my favorite simple things right now:

1. A non-humid day, immediately following a ridiculously humid day.
2. Grilling dinner on our rooftop deck, three times this week (and counting).  There’s also a grilling party at a friend’s house tomorrow. Can I just say that I love grilling food?
3. Waking up with the light.
4. Staying up with the light, later than I normally do.
5. Getting blueberries for my cereal from the farmer’s market rather than the freezer case.
6. Heck, the farmer’s market altogether.
7. Short Fridays.
8. Three vacations in one summer. The next one starts next Thursday, when my dad comes to town.
9. Seeing my husband more often than during the school year.
10. Summer movies in the park. Tonight is The Muppet Movie!

Those are my simple things that are bringing me joy this summer. What are yours?