Sunday Morning

Oh, fall Sunday mornings, I forgot how great you can be. Coffee & oatmeal & relaxing on the couch after a great Halloween party with my college friends last night. And let's not forget - flying out to see my husband on Tuesday!!!

Rock. On.

This is awesome. It comes from one of the wedding blogs I read while planning our wedding. Since the author got married, the site has evolved into a blog about marriage and community and feminism and lots of generally awesome things.

And then I stood in front of the mirror wondering if I was the kind of girl who wore grey cowboy boots and black tights out to dinner. Was I, really? Was I that hip, ever? What would it take to be that girl? 

And then I realized. What it would take to be that girl was wearing the outfit out of the house. That was it.

Spooooky

I took the dog for a walk tonight, about 3 hours ago. The night was oddly lit, as the clouds covered the moon, but there was a strange orangey pink glow in the sky. We're walking along, perfectly normal nighttime walk, all well in the neighborhood. Sadie stops to do her business and we both hear a rustle in the trees across the street. Scares the crap (literally) out of the dog. I remain slightly calmer.

We walk on and somehow the time of year & the atmosphere of the night conspire to turn things spooky. I keep thinking I hear someone behind us and every shadow takes on a sinister overtone. It gets to the point where I'm thinking, "OK, I have on sneakers & a jacket with deep pockets, so my phone & keys won't fall out if I have to run. Sadie's fast and I was an All New England track star, so we'll be fine." Then, just when I'm completely spooked out, I hear an owl hoot somewhere off in the trees. An owl! Is that out of central casting or what?

Somehow the absurdity of an owl actually hooting in the distance on a creepy night breaks the spell. I chuckle to myself and we make our way home, unscathed.

Oh gods of blogging . . .

why do you hate me so? Well, the gods of blogging (if there be such things) are fine to me - it's the ones who are in charge of blog get-togethers like Blogtoberfest who seem to have a vendetta going. At this point, I'm 1 for 4 on Blogtoberfests. :(

I made it to the first one, traffic & Red Sox kept me from the second one, I was detained in NH for the third one, and last night, I got home from work late and felt really, really, really crappy. Too little sleep this week? Too many nights working late? I don't know. I just know that I sat down on my couch for a second to rest before getting ready and the thought of getting changed, driving into the city, finding parking, etc. when I felt so yucky had me in tears. I feel terrible I missed it, especially since there was a waiting list, but I just had nothing left.

I hope those who made it had a great time (seemed like she did and they did) and that Jenny will host another one next year so I can finally make a successful sophomore appearance!

A Walk with Sadie

Soon after we moved into the new (to us) house, Justin & I took the new pup for a walk down our new (-ish) street. We wandered down towards the reservoir and reveled in the August evening. I never had time to create the post I was hoping for about our walk, but maybe my notes do an ok job on their own . . .

• bugs, birds and noises everywhere
• green trees & verdant summer life
• cold beer in coffee travel cups (sneaky!)
• calm water on the reservoir & evening sunset hue
• walks along the road with sadie now & our kids eventually
• our place now

911!

Yikes. That's how many posts I've written since I started blogging nearly 5 years ago. For nerds like me, it breaks down as follows: 29 posts on Enigmatic Snippets (no link, as it was lost in the wilds of cyberspace), 113 posts on Wer Ond Wif, 128 on Museophilia, and 641 here on Hodoeporicon. It's pretty funny that I have almost as many posts on the wedding-specific blog as I do on the work-related one I've had for a year longer! Although, I am getting better at posting regularly on Museophilia, particularly with the photo series I'm doing right now.

In thinking about blogging tonight, I also wanted to draw your attention to this great post from Ree Drummond, the Pioneer Woman. She highlights ten important things she's learned about blogging and I think some of her tips are great motivators for the days you just can't come up with anything to say.

And in other blog news, yours truly will be attending the fourth annual Boston Blogtoberfest this coming Thursday! I haven't been since the very first one in 2006 (the germ of the idea of which I actually helped create, though Jenny ably executed the whole thing). Now that I'm a repatriated Boston blogger, I'm excited to meet up with old friends from the city and meet new bloggers in the area.

Also - this has nothing to do with anything, but has anyone else been listening to The Suburbs compusively? Soooo good.

Birthday Musings

At 8:37pm, 29 years ago, I was born. A small ginger child with two loving parents and a big sister who would come to love me, but initially wanted me to live in the garden shed. ;)

At 8:37pm tonight, I turned 29 years old. I was on a walk with the dog, having just gotten back from dinner with said sister, her husband, and her two sons. I wandered up the street, nursing an Old Foghorn barleywine and missing my husband. We walked up the street a ways, then turned into the conservation area near us, which I refer to as "the field" in my head. I pulled the pup up a small rise, then plopped down to drink my beer and gape at the field and the stars for awhile.

At first, I just felt bad for myself. "I'm 29," I thought, "and it's my birthday. But my husband is far away. I miss him." But eventually, the night got to me and I came around. "It's a lovely night, I have a lovely dog, and I'm going to spend the weekend at the lake house with my parents, my nephews, and two lovely dogs. How much have I really to complain about?"

So that's the final word. :) Happy birthday to me.

That Time of Year Again, Soon

Actually, I think we're just a little past it. Go read this at Sweet & Salty and understand what I'm talking about. This bit rings true with me now - "I want stews and porridge and mittens and woodsmoke and bats."