Winter Walk

I've been missing winter. I was telling a Southerner last week that it didn't feel right to me as a Northerner to go through winter without experiencing a proper, bone chilling deep freeze. Then I told him about the winter when they shut down the university for a couple weeks and the roads were like snow tunnels, and the winter when a dog in Matt's town ran over the frozen Straits of Mackinac and was found on the Island. 

Blizzards of years past raced through my mind and I remembered them with fondness.

I didn't even tell him about the annual Kalamazoo or Boston blizzards when we stocked up on supplies and didn't leave the house for days (gladly), or the winter overnight hiking trip I took up to Carter Notch in New Hampshire and helped carry buckets of water from the frozen lake up to the cabin for dinner, or the winter trip we took to Quebec City and saw snow piled so high we couldn't see 2-story houses as we drove by. That was the trip where we drove out to visit some sled dogs, and then through a turn of events, we adopted this girl a few months later.

This weekend, we all drove North. Matt went to play in a hockey tournament on a frozen lake. The weather hasn't been cold enough for the Straits to freeze over this year, which is where they have held the event in years past. I took the dog and retreated for a couple days to wrap my head around a heap of dissertation data I need to present on and write about soon.

Saturday we woke up to 5 fresh inches. The dog spent as much time as possible wriggling in snow piles and we took long walks on the frozen lake. We shared the lake with ice fishermen, snowmobiles, and pickup trucks. I think we were the only ladies around. Out on that lake, I thought about everyone I know who is escaping to palm trees right now or wanting to escape. I get it. That January week we spent in Puerto Rico several years ago is a fond memory too. I thought about how harsh winter can be and even lonely, but on quiet weekends when the snow and ice is sparkling, the muted landscape and cold air slows me just enough that I take a deep breath and realize I am still very much alive.

Make in 2012

For the last couple years I've chosen one little word to guide me through the year. When New Year's rolled around this year I tried to remember  my word for 2011 and I couldn't remember! So, my word clearly didn't stick with me - guiding me through my every move in 2011. I had to look back at my blog posts to remember if I'd even chosen a word in 2011. But, I did indeed choose a word last January: stretch.


Immediately, I recognized that 2011 was about stretching myself. Mainly professionally, but also personally as I adapted to the ups and downs of  life here and to the new adventures this place had in store for me. In the winter I stretched myself to become a better skate skier. Then, I stretched myself into a new summer routine that revolved around gardening and soccer. Biking through the city became comfortable and by fall I started to bike commute regularly. What stretched me the most was just letting go and trying on a new routines. For the first time in years, I spent a whole year taking very few photographs. I did minimal little scrapbooking or blogging. I did a fair amount of knitting but didn't keep close track of my projects. I cooked new recipes a bit less (although I did make homemade ricotta for the first time). I just tried to let go of the expectations around all that. With long hours at work, sometimes letting go was all I was capable of doing but it was also nice to just move through the weeks at the pace in which they came.


In 2010, my word was move and choosing that word actually had a big impact on my year so I know how powerful this practice can be. That January I wrote, "It's time to get a move on. To move on. To move my body more. To get moving. To finish what I started. To feel motivated. To reorganize. To literally move. Find a new place to live. To move on to a new phase. We don't know if it'll be 5 miles away or 1000 miles away, but we both feel the need to start anew this year. Wipe off the dust. Pare down our possessions. Feel a little lighter. Find a new adventure." And if I accomplished one thing in 2010 it was to find a new adventure. The move from Massachusetts to Michigan burned up most of that year. I spent the spring filling up an art journal while trying to decide whether to move, then the summer moving and the fall settling in. In the early winter I ran my first 5k.


In January I want to feel lighter and ready to make progress. I feel the need to pare down possessions and make new plans for new adventures. That's what I've been doing this first week of January 2012. Tidying up corners of our house. Finishing some projects that I didn't finish in 2011 so I can move on to new projects. Making lists and plans in my head and on paper.


So, in that vein, my word for 2012 is make. I let a few words roll around in my head for a few days and make is the one that stuck. Last year I let go of a lot of my crafting as I worked long hours at work, on a dissertation and on building a life here. Stretching myself in those directions was really good. But this year I want to I set aside more time to make things just for my own pleasure - to push my creativity deeper and in new directions. Now that I'm settled, it's time for venturing.


"Pleasure and action make the hours seem short." William Shakespeare.

We call her...

Kaia
Puppers
Pupper Pup
Kaia Girl
Muffin
Kaia Muffin
Muffin Girl
Miss K
Miss Kaia
Muchacha
Huntress
Monster
Beast
Beastie

Matt and I often joke about how funny it is to us that we keep this beast in our house and take her for walks around the neighborhood on a string. Like we're keeping a wild animal captive and promonading her for our own pleasure.

She surely would run away if we let her off the leash, as huskies are known to do and as she did before we learned better. In her early years we tempted fate a few times, hopeful that we could somehow train her to come back to us despite her genetics. She'd take off on wild chases through the brambles and we'd have to trampse through the woods hoping she'd come back to us after she ran her heart out.

When she was still quite young, I spent a month working with her on coming back when called. She made good progress so when I took her for a hike in the woods, I let her off leash and gave her treats for staying by my side. She complied for about five minutes, then realized she could go ahead without me, full speed down the trail. I stood on a hill in the darkening woods and watched black flashes of fur run circles around me in the distance until I couldn't see or hear her anymore. I called Matt and asked him to drive down to look for her with me. I imagined hanging lost puppy posters around town and admonished myself for being such a bad dog owner. After about 45 minutes, she wandered slowly back to me, totally spent, and we went home.

After that, we settled for dog parks. One was very large and surrounded by water on three sides. After a disappearing act there, I found her curled up in the salt marsh. Another time Matt caught her by the tail after she and he jumped two fences. On her last adventure, she chased rabbits for an hour and a half on a lovely spring morning while we chased her. After that, we finally gave in to the leash. There are days when she's tracking the scent of a rabbit and I wish I could let her go for a chase. She would be so happy. But, we like our beast and intend to keep her.

With some dogs, they stick to you like glue. This one has a wild heart. And for that, I'm thankful.

Inside/Outside November

I spent the afternoon playing around with TTV. For my first try, I got blurry photos but I think maybe I like it that way.

Scandinavian Travel, In Retrospect

I started writing this when I looked at the calendar and it had been a month since my husband and I spent our last day in Norway. Now, another month has passed. We returned to a very fast paced fall where the weeks have slipped by, faster each one. I think of our trip a few times a week though and the shifts I've experienced in my thinking as a result of traveling.

*****
This vacation to Scandinavia was a dream, but on that last day in Norway, we were by the fish market after hours of walking around town on a drizzly day, almost aimlessly in a daze, and we watched on as a two year old melted down on the street, crying and dropping onto his knees next to his mother. I said to Matt, "I think I know how he feels. 'Get me out of this fishy town!'"