THE BEST SEAT IS BY THE WINDOW

Our warmest conversations happen at the dinner table, and the best seat is always by the window. This past year we've often opted to sit at the table rather than the couch in the evenings while we talk and work, so a struggle with this apartment has been the cramped and windowless dining nook. But it's the gentle push of necessity that often causes me to not only be resourceful, but to discover and develop my favorite ideas.

In a 24 hour swoop we decided to sell our couch with the intention of replacing it with a more durable, leather one. We began the hunt for a replacement, and moved our *dining table into the living room, creating a play space for Henry in the old nook. The intention was to keep our living room from looking bare, but the first evening we found ourselves across from each other at the table for hours, drinking tea and conversing by opened windows over the low light of pillar candles.

I know from experience that when we move next month the spaces in our home will pivot many times before the dust settles. But I'm reluctant to give up this fresh arrangement, so here's hoping I can find the table an open spot by a window in Carrboro. I can imagine the laughter of dinner parties and low tones of intimate conversation that will sift through our window screens on summer evenings, drifting down to passersby.


*We built our oak parson's table in a friend's workshop last summer, and it's scheduled to receive a new coat of danish oil upon our move. The chairs are solid walnut, purchased from the local flea market and originally built in the 60's by a North Carolinian carpenter. We started sanding them down to the natural wood, but it was slow going so we opted to paint the chairs an off-black color.

AN ARTIFICIAL FUTURE

Every month, our plans change - in bad and good ways. All the details I stuff into cells and columns to scrutinize each month - the money we'll make, the food we'll eat, the gifts we'll buy, the places we'll live - nothing is static. Each determined dollar or activity ebbs onto another page, and many are erased.

While the painful process of learning to embrace change has not been welcomed - as everything that is lost cannot necessarily be replaced - I have come to understand that uncertainty often leads to fresh beginnings.

I'm not suggesting for you to stop dreaming or planning, but that you hold each vision with a gentle grip so when little dreams have been ripped up, new beauty is unearthed. Treasure the tiny details of the present before they vanish, savoring sure promises in place of an artificial future.

image source

TINY DREAMS

It's been a busy spring for me with lots of new writing projects, but now I'm determined to carve out time again for this old one.

We're moving in a month to a little town called Carrboro, about a mile from UNC Chapel Hill's campus. Joseph was accepted into the school's MBA program, and we're excited to set up home in a new townhouse and to spend summer afternoons discovering new favorite places. It's been five years since I graduated from UNC, long enough to forget the bad and romanticize the good, so I'm excited to return.

I have a number of ventures slated for the coming season, but it's the tiny dreams and decisions that I remind myself to fixate on. Because those are the particles that gradually reveal the greatest impact, like letting the sunlight in.


photo found here

CHRISTMAS LIGHT CHATS

Joseph and I have been working on going to bed earlier. There are two times in my life that I can remember having a consistent "bedtime". One was my senior year in college. I'd go to bed between 9 and 10pm and wake up at 5am completely refreshed and excited for the day, sometimes with so much energy I would voluntarily go on a 8 mile run and watch the sun crest because I had nothing else to do. I know...

I think with a small child, the tendency is to feel like once they go to sleep that the world is your limit, and time is this open ended, beautiful thing where you can do whatever you want without being interrupted - like pursue novel writing dreams or watch addicting TV shows. On top of that, for the past few months I was working late evenings and early mornings doing time sensitive contract work (hence my absence in the blogging world). But the dark circles around my eyes were beginning to appear permanent. So Joseph and I are committed now to the nightly wind-downs beginning much, much earlier.

So at night now we sit together in the glow of Christmas lights and spiced candles and listen to a podcast, accompanied by decaffeinated coffee or tea and conversation that does not involve finances or all the undone to-do's. We are currently listening to this podcast, which is about as addicting as Netflix but actually requires brain use. The absence of a screen's bluish glow makes it much easier to put a cap on things. The whole evening evokes a sort of nostalgia for fireside chats.

I wish for every evening to be thought provoking, connective, and cozy. The day of my dreams would close with family gathered together on an night that rings only with laughter, conversation and the crackle of a fireplace.

For now, our twinkly Christmas lights will do just fine.

some other podcasts we enjoy:
This American Life
All Songs Considered
TED Radio Hour
Radiolab
Planet Money
Stuff You Missed in History Class



photo found here

A SNOWY RAMBLE ON SKYLARK FARM

Joseph and I happily share holidays with both of our families, and this year we joined mine in the Virginia mountains for Thanksgiving. And this year it snowed. Our little-Honda-that-could-not was left in a Burger King parking lot and we were shuttled by my uncle through the woods up an icy, winding road to Skylark farm. Most evenings were spent sheltered from ice and winds playing cards with hands wrapped around steaming mugs.

The first morning Joseph and I looked outside, the atmosphere was so thick with fog that we could see past the cabin's deck, which was covered in eight inches of snow. I ventured outside alone later that day to meet up with my cousins to shoot skeet. The fog had lifted, and I could finally see the miles upon miles of white.

"As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment."

- John Steinbeck

WHAT MAKES YOU RICH

Today I became obsessed with these shoes. I crave them. Badly. After eyeing them all day on Instagram and imagining myself walking around like this in the olive ones with a slouchy sweater and my jean cuffs rolled, I've decided they are the perfect synthesis of modernity and leather, masculinity and grace, and my feet need their effortless guise for the cool undertones of October afternoons. I've already considered selling our dining table to pay for them.

I'm going to tell you a somewhat related story that my father-in-law shared with me.

In order to take advantage of cheaper labor costs, an American manufacturer moved one of its production facilities to a remote region of Mexico. The manufacturer hired 250 hourly workers and paid them only 25% of what American workers were paid for the same job. But in a region where standard of living was the lowest in the country and annual family income was about $1,200, the workers were becoming rich, earning more in one month than they had been in an entire year. 

Something strange happened. After about six months, just when the employees had become well trained and the plant had reached optimal productivity, the workers began quitting. And within just a few weeks, half of the employees no longer came to work and productivity plummeted. 

Having thought his employees were elated to be earning so much money, the plant manager was baffled and asked his shift managers to talk to the workers who were left to find out why everyone was quitting. After two days, this was the report: the workers had more money than they could spend. There were no shopping centers or malls for hundreds of miles, and the only stores were one-room shacks in small villages where only the barest of necessities were for sale.

And then the plant manager had a brilliant idea. He had hundreds upon hundreds of catalogs sent to the plant from leading retailers all over the United States and Mexico. He had clothing, tools and sports equipment catalogs hand delivered to workers who had quit, and catalogs with toys and bicycles for the children. Within two weeks, everyone was back to work and productivity soared. For many years the plant was the American manufacturers' most profitable production facility.

I really should just stay off the internet until spring.


photo credit here.
my amazing father-in-law.

WE SOLD OUR TV LAST NIGHT

So, we sold our TV last night.

To be honest, it sort of just happened. The only display surface in our living room is a tiny white dresser, and with mostly empty wall space, the black TV above it was dominating the living area. It was also becoming too much of a temptation to leave the TV on for the hours I played on the floor with Henry. I wasn't comfortable with him staring all day at the flashing colors and array of sounds.

First we hid the TV in the bedroom closet and pulled it out for movie watching (I know, we are crazy). But of course that was a hassle, so eventually we forgot the TV even existed and began occasionally watching shows on our laptops. So yesterday we finally just sold it on Craigslist. 

I feel the need to say that I'm not advocating for everyone to get rid of their TVs, and I don’t think Joseph and I are something special for not having a TV in our home. Someday you better bet we will have a massive TV and routinely have family movies nights and host big game watching nights with friends.

For those of you who have been following my other posts on living simply and more minimally, do you see what happens? You start by getting rid of one thing. Then another. Then another. And at some point your perspective on things begins to change, and you do something crazy like sell your TV.

Start looking around your home and decide what's getting in the way of you living your life in an intentional and meaningful way. As your stuff begins to disappear, you’ll be surprised that the way you begin to view what's left changes, and so does your perspective on what you think you need.

somewhat related things:
affects of television on brain development
do you let you kids watch tv?
here's proof I'm not a total television hater
what shows do you binge watch?

photo credit: some day I want our TV wall to look like this.