coming up roses.

ten years ago my dad reached remission after a seriously tough battle with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. he entered the winter of 2001 with his head as bare as the trees and his skin as grey as the december sky. needless to say, while he was indeed the same man, this was a side of him i'd never seen. but...in the nick of time and right on par with the seasons, spring brought a breakthrough in his diagnosis - just when my whole family needed it most. his eyelashes and brows began to sprout like the azaleas and on my visits home from college, i watched color and strength return to both the backyard and my father. i've vowed to never forget that feeling of hope returning. everything appeared new again, diminishing all signs of what that winter had brought. it was truly a spring like no other and since then that's how each one has been for me.

this quote sums up that spring in 2002 as well as how i still feel today. it'll never cease to amaze me that just when i've almost forgotten what sun feels like, how bright green grass is or how fragrant flowers are, spring swoops in proving it does in fact still exist and nothing has ever been quite so sweet.

get up, get out

it's officially spring and the weather these past few days couldn't be more fitting.

i'd like to say i've been waiting all winter for today, but the truth is, we were blessed with a rather mild last three months. of all the seasonal transitions, i love this one the most. i love watching things come back to life after a few months of winter and i find it always awakens a bit of myself as well.

i'm a "stop to smell the roses" kind of gal and this time of year, that's exactly what i do. for me, it's a sensory/memory overload:

• the daffodils remind me of my grandma beale's garden from my childhood
• the morning birds take me back to my quiet home in NC (which i'll happily be visiting in just a few weeks!)
• the lighter spirits during cocktail hour conjure craziness of spring breaks past
• and most of all, that extra hour of light reminds me to not just get out, but stay out to enjoy it all.

when i first moved up north, i wasn't aware of what a HUGE deal spring was until i went through my first winter. i'd always taken the pollen-soaked 75-degree march days in NC for granted. but now i see that spring is a calling, a begging almost, to come back to these places of life - wherever and whatever they may be for you. and each year, on this day, i gladly return.

*for you, a favorite that always reminds me of my last spring in NC

sick for the big sun

the next two days are big, BIG ones for e. and because of that, they are for me too. after 2.5 months of endless studying (on top of a full-time job) he'll be sitting down to endure hours of the Mass bar - good luck e!

e's had his fair share of big, BIG days over the last few years and i'm so very proud of him for it. i knew this life partner of mine was a pretty amaze person and it's been cool to see him get publicly recognized for it by others as well. i have no doubt that these recognitions will continue far into our years together.

in other news, this winter's been one for the books. i don't think i'm quite in the clear to talk about it yet, as i fear that as soon as i mention these mild winter days, we'll be bombarded with a devastating snow storm at the end of march. so i'll just hang on to the details until my annual spring post! we've got a busy month planned with visits and general life catch up, and while i appreciate the extra day this february offers, i don't think i'll have the time to give it much notice. it's funny how this day, that's been about five years in the making, seems to have crept up on us. and it's crazy that, already, another spring is in sight.

song of the south

i found myself settling into bed early last night (a first for me in weeks) and so i picked up my first issue of Bon Appetit (courtesy of Allison Beale) because,
a: i am pretty behind on all my glossy readings so it's time to get on it, and
b: that fried chicken on the cover looked exceptionally delicious.

i knew i was excited for the monthly access to this mag that my sister supplied me this holiday and i knew i was going to be bombarded with a book of recipes that would quickly climb up my "to cook ASAP" list (coconut cake, hoppin' john, said fried chicken...). but what i didn't know and for sure least expected, was that this single issue, praising the south in all it's...well...southern glory - primarily food, was going to make me miss that place pretty dang bad.

i found myself reading about recipes and restaurants out loud to e until he begged me to turn out the light and fall asleep. and as i lay in the dark, confessions of a longing for that warm place so many states down crept into my mind. longing for my home, my heart, my roots.

i thought about the turn our lives have taken - for the best and with our control - and i thought about how my love for new england has grown more than i ever knew it would (or could). but for the first time, in a long time, i thought about how i missed some southern ground. i can learn to fry my chicken, add extra cheese to my mac, whip up some collards, biscuits and sweet tea, and i can keep a bottle of texas pete in my pantry. i can don some seersucker, skip around barefoot in the summer and take down a couple of mint juleps. but all that is just a substitution to what real, day-to-day living is like in the south. it's front porches and humidity. bourbon and bojangles. everything's a little sweeter and a whole lot slower. we're more belk and less bloomingdales; more yawning, less yoga. down there they talk to strangers, go to church and greet everyone with a hug instead of a handshake. i could go on about all the southern-isms that i'm happily welcomed with each time i return home.

i eventually fell asleep last night. and when i woke up this morning with some extra rest i felt like a new women - but with the same southern perspective which i know no amount of time away from my home sweet home can change.