Community Garden

 I got the chance to help my sixth graders start a community garden today at school. The sun was shining, the kids were enthused, and I taught some girls how to use power tools.  Every bit of it made me smile. 

Hello, Kitty.

All I wanted for my 31st birthday was a Hello Kitty sewing machine. When I got it, the minty green color made me want to make something. Anything. But I had no idea what to do. After watching every “learn to sew” youtube video out there and scouring the bare-bones manual, I finally made my first stitch and, boy, was it powerful! I was ready to conquer the world. I am woman. I am technically savvy. I can make...a pillow case?

At the time, the only live resource around was this depressing basement fabric store two towns away. They had a lot of Cat and The Hat prints that didn’t exactly scream urban sophisticate. It was hard, but I still managed to find an Orla Kiely-looking pear print that did the trick for my first domestic sewing project. Oh, what a pillow case it was.

Fast forward six months and I have now spent the near entirety of my last paycheck at this hip stitch club that just opened up in town called Gather Here (http://www.gatherhereonline.com/). I now know how to make a messenger bag, a duvet cover and a simple skirt. I have gone a little nutso, perhaps, adding my colorful flair to whatever I can get my hands on around our house. Talk about girl power. Making your own decor, clothing and accessories really is the art of modern womanhood. 

I had a few days off and together, with sweet Kitty, I have given two rooms in the house make-overs. Talk about gratification and instant reward! Watch out world: she’s got Hello Kitty at her mercy and she’s not afraid to use it.

Bar Harbor

Last weekend, we were up in Bar Harbor, Maine, and I took this photo of our friends’ three year old daughter. She was chasing our dog, Stephen, as he romped with a new friend named Zeus.  That blonde lab could cram two balls and three sticks into his mouth at the same time. It was incredible. 

To me: this photo is what childhood is about. What’s better than growing up, getting dirty outside, pouncing with dogs, and collecting sticks? Kids don’t needs fancy toys and televisions; they need family time, fresh air and real adventures. 


I want to insert the photo of my future child into this very shot. This moment, to me, represents all of the right ingredients of life. I am convinced that a sunny day and a handful of sticks is better for your heart and head than anything money can buy.

Stephen The Dog: Life On Three Legs

This past week, Stephen and I were hiking off-leash around Fresh Pond, an urban oasis for dogs in Cambridge. He was hopping along, as he does on his three legs, and I was enjoying the fresh spring rays that were streaming through the trees. There was this great moment, when Stephen was waiting for me as I rounded the bend, and I thought: three legs or not, this guy is the dog of my childhood dreams; we are one sweet team together. 


And then he took off. Ran like a greyhound, focused and unbelievably efficient for missing a hind leg. At first I was proud of his grace and power - and then I panicked. He was heading straight towards a small pond and his eyes were locked on two feathered and squawking prizes.  It had only been a year since cancer had taken his limb. Could he even swim? We bought him that life jacket, just in case, but I didn’t really know his liquid limitations after the amputation.  Would Stephen drown? 

I raced after Stephen, imagining how uncomfortable the the long walk back to the car would be after I throw myself into the pond to rescue dear old pup. When I arrived at the pond, however, I found Stephen dog-paddling, snorting, panting, and still going strong, salivating for a taste of urban duckling.  

It was hard to be mad at him for running off, as he pulled himself up upon the rocks, and wiggled his wet-dog shake. What a guy, I thought. I guess he can swim with three legs after all. 


Even though Stephen lost his off-leash freedom for the rest of the journey home, I was darn proud of him for getting back on that figurative bicycle and bounding his way into the pond without reservation. I smiled to myself as I added this moment to the list of life lessons taught to me by my three-legged furry companion; sometimes, it seems, it's best not to over-think things; just dive on in.