31 Days: Notice



(I’m writing this entry a couple days late due to some work craziness this week… but I will get caught up!)

On Tuesday evening, I was doing some internet surfing as Erich got Max to bed and came across an interesting little thing happening in Boston not far from my office – the extraordinary high tide was splashing over the lower-lying docks and parklands, allowing folks to splash in Boston Harbor without actually taking a dip in the harbor.  It’s called a king tide, and it’s a sign of the changing climate of the earth…

But as scary as it is long-term, in the short-term it’s a natural marvel to go enjoy.  And so on Wednesday during my lunch hour, I took a walk down to Long Wharf, walked to the end of the wharf, and relaxed on what was an absolutely gorgeous day for the natural show to start.

When I first arrived, the tide was definitely higher than I recall it ever being (when a storm wasn’t directly affecting it).


Within about 15 minutes, the water at the end of the pier was actually causing small waves as it washed onto the granite blocks. A bunch of folks, including myself, went wading… it was only ankle deep. It was cold at first, but soon became comfortable against the warm air above it.


We were all marveling about the most basic of things – a high tide, rolling up on the shore. Only in this case, it was a pier that normally is two feet above the highest tide line. Wednesday was the lowest of three days in a row – two days prior, it flooded all the way up the pier.

And as fun and lovely as it is, it’s important to take notice at the alarming reality underneath… this is what climate change does. The tides will get higher. What we’re calling a king tide now will likely be a normal tide in a couple of decades.

It was a beautiful day, and I’m thankful that for now… it can simply be enjoyed. But I cannot deny that as I walked back to my office, I hoped that we wouldn’t see these tides that often. I’d rather they be occasional novelties.

And I fear that they won’t be… sooner than we think.

This post is part of my annual participation in the Write 31 Days Challenge. This year I am joining a group of writers on a Five Minute Free Write journey throughout the month.

31 Days: Neighbor



I confess – Erich and I are not the best of neighbors to those who live around us.  We’re not loud people… we keep to ourselves and rarely have any functions outdoors that are loud or go late into the evening.  When we do have people over, they’re generally in the house for the entire time, aside from perhaps a couple people on the back porch having a cigarette from time to time.

But we’re still THOSE neighbors – the ones with the slightly-more-than-sleight amount of overgrowth and weeds, the lawn that seems to always be shaggy, even when it’s mowed, and the ones that have random things tossed outside to air out or debug or whatever else the issue is.  The paint on the foundation’s in serious need of repainting, the entire garage really could use a repaint, and our driveway needs to be repaved.

Some of it comes from the reality of everyday life – we work long hours, we both have weird commutes, and hey… we have a young child.  But some of it is also the frustrating side effect of those hours… on the weekends, we don’t want to go tend to the yard like we probably should.  And there’s also that cost thing… it tends to be a bit prohibitive.  (and yes, I know… we did buy the house, we should know it came with these costs).

It does eventually get done, but we’re not that tidy house on the block.  We’re the disheveled but not completely out in left field wreck of a house.

It does embarrass me… because we’re those neighbors.

But hopefully our neighbors have their “we’re those neighbors” issues too… and we’re just all in the same boat together.


This post is part of my annual participation in the Write 31 Days Challenge. This year I am joining a group of writers on a Five Minute Free Write journey throughout the month.

This entry was posted in Writing.

31 Days: Study



When I was little, my dad didn’t have a home office.  He had a study.

(it was an office… but I’ve always preferred the idea of a study)

Dad’s study was probably about 12 feet square.  It had plush beige carpeting, wood paneled walls, some build-in shelving on one side, windows on two sides, and right in the center was a big roll-top oak desk with a hidden compartment for an old manual black typewriter… one of the gorgeous old models with round keys.

Dad spent most Sunday mornings relaxing in his study, sometimes with music but just as often in silence, reading the paper and working through a gigantic thermos of coffee (black… always black).

On warm late spring evenings, he’d often be working on something at his desk while I sat on the floor, leaning against the built-in cabinets, inhaling the smell of lilacs that would blow in on the breeze.  You could only smell them in Dad’s study… and to this day, I smell lilacs, and I think of sitting quietly on that floor, Dad doing his thing, me doing mine.

I don’t even remember what I was doing, to be honest.  Probably writing letters (see my Mail entry from Friday).  Maybe some homework… but considering I tended to avoid homework somehow… I doubt it.

A few weeks ago, while sifting through photos of my dad to prepare his memorial slideshow for the hometown folks, I came across a photo of him smiling with the sun shining on him in his study… it was from the late 1970s or early 1980s (the collar gives it away).  And then I went to Zillow just out of curiosity, since I know a lot of things about the house have changed (my bedroom doesn’t exist anymore, for example).

And I saw this photo:

islmr6oxnakcht1000000000The desk is different, but the paneling is the same… and the carpet’s still a similar color (but likely new… what was in there when I was there would now be 30 years old.  No way are you keeping beige carpet that clean for that many years!).  But the windows are still there – the right one being the one I sat closer to while smelling the lilacs.

I think I prefer the desk my dad had… it had that regal, old-world look to it… a study.  Now it looks more like an office.  A study just seems cozier to me.  A study suggests somewhere to retreat to, both for personal and work use.  My dad had a study – because it was his little sanctuary.

I think someday I want a study.  With a big old rolltop desk.  And some sort of a comfy chair that I can curl up in to read or stitch.

I might skip the wood paneling, though.  Or maybe I should use it, in honor of my dad.  (you never know… it might come back in style someday).

No matter what, I need lilacs outside the window, so I can sit in my study on quiet warm evenings and remember Dad as that scent wafts in on the breeze.


This post is part of my annual participation in the Write 31 Days Challenge. This year I am joining a group of writers on a Five Minute Free Write journey throughout the month.

October 2016 WIPocalypse check-in

WIPocalypse ButtonHappy Monday, everyone!

It’s about 10:30 pm as I type this, and it’s such a gloriously mild October evening that we have all of the windows open.  The first half of the week is supposed to be record-breaking temperatures – we’re supposed to get to 80 degrees (26C for those of you using the more common temperature measurement system)! We normally do get a short stretch of warmer weather in autumn that’s known as an Indian Summer.  This year I think it’s just… Summer II.  Now with less humidity.

I’ll take it!

I find myself starting to settle into my stitchy plans for the winter as the days grow shorter.  I think knowing that soon I won’t want to go outside other than the necessity of rushing from a building to the car makes me want to get my inside projects all in order.  Of course, that also means I’m trying to think about what I’ll be doing for stitching in 2017.  There’s a Facebook group that is doing a stitch-from-stash challenge.  I’ve joined the group, although I haven’t committed to it yet.  I need to really sit down with my WIP and UFO pile and make some good decisions about what I can and want to do.

WIPocalypse will continue again for 2017.  I’ll get dates and plans up next month – so if there’s anything you really want to see, please speak up!  🙂


Question of the Month

What online stitching communities do you enjoy?



My bed is calling, so I’ll stop here for this post.  Have a lovely rest of October with fast-flying needles!

Happy stitching,



Important SAL Announcements…

Next posting date:November 14th

Topic for next time: What pattern (or designer) is on your must-try-to-stitch bucket list?

Please remember that this stitch-a-long is intended to be fun – so if you’re too busy to post, too busy/ill/etc. to stitch – no worries. Post when you can and share what you have going, even if you’ve only been able to toss a single stitch into it. If you miss a few months, not a problem – just jump back in when you’re back with us! It’s not a race or a competition – we’re all just here to cheer each other on with our progress.

Due to different browsing software, some bloggers have found it difficult to check-in with their posts. There are three different ways to check in:

  • Via Auto-link
  • Via comments (make sure you include your blog address!)
  • Via email – to measiwitch(at)gmail.com, only if the other two options are not working. Again- make sure you include your blog address! I’ll add it to the auto-link myself when I have a free moment.

31 Days: Little




This morning for about an hour, Max curled up on the couch with me to watch his cartoons.  I was still a bit groggy and the morning coffee hadn’t kicked in yet, and I caught myself starting to doze off.

And as I dozed, my mind started to wander, remembering the many weeks of curling up with Max just like this when he was a newborn, allowing myself to doze with him in my arms because it was the only time I’d even have a chance of getting any sleep.

At the time he was so tiny.  Now he’s this 41-inch-long wiry kid that’s all legs and arms.  And it’s only three years later.

Already, I realize how fast these years of him being little are disappearing, how little time I have left to still cuddle with him on the couch like this.  The time’s disappearing both because he’s a boy, and he’ll soon not want any cuddling whatsoever, but also because sooner or later he’s just going to be too big to cuddle with like this on the couch… with him curled up against my hip, forming a little preschooler lump against my ribs.

Every day it slips away just a bit more, and every day I want to give him another squeeze… just in case tomorrow’s the day he finally isn’t little enough to snuggle with me.  I know it’ll come faster than expected, and it’ll occur suddenly – just like those times when he was a baby and I could have sworn that those footie PJ’s fit the day before…


This post is part of my annual participation in the Write 31 Days Challenge. This year I am joining a group of writers on a Five Minute Free Write journey throughout the month.