birthday picnic

Because Neil was gigging and out of town for my 21st birthday weekend, he took me on a picnic to celebrate a week later. I love picnics and daytrips and escaping the well-worn pathways I tread through the community --home to work, work to home, home to riverside park, repeat--and going somewhere a bit more out of the ordinary. We packed some food and headed south toward Stoddard after I got done with work about a week ago, stopping at an overlook nestled up against the Mississippi.

Shown above is Betty, Neil's trusty Buick. When I first met Neil, almost five years ago now, I remember thinking, That is the ugliest car I have ever seen, as he pulled into my driveway to pick me up. I've since gained more appreciation for Betty, but I'll never forget my initial repulsion. I'm sorry, Betty.

Neil brought along this scratchy faded-sage blanket for us to sit on. It's functional, sure, but cute? Could it be called cute in any universe? Yes, I'm a snob. I love textiles and I recently bought not one but two functional and cute outdoor blankets, so, eh, I gave him a bit of trouble, asking why he didn't bring my aesthetically pleasing blankets. His response?

"Oops. Well, just take a picture of this one and complain about it on your blog." Said with a slight smile, he knows what will appease me. This cute boy is completely resigned to his fate, I'll tell ya that.

Presents! I was so happy to receive a reusable water bottle because I'm ashamed to say I've been using and refilling disposable water bottles for too long now. I do own a reusable water bottle but have always found it too challenging to wash, so I've avoided using it. Neil has often heard me lamenting the issues I find with all sorts of water bottles we come across, so I'm delighted to say that I love this new gift! Though I'm still searching for my Goo be Gone to get that sticker residue off.

Quote that made me love him more than ever? "What could be more Bri-ish? Removable pads?"

My next present, wrapped artfully in a plastic bag.What could it be?

  



















A cute message from Neil was included with each of my presents. Prior to my birthday I told Neil: "I don't need you to buy me anything; in fact, don't. Save money. All I want is a letter. Or maybe, a lot of letters." At this he saw my eyes light up as he simultaneously shrank back, concerned at the amount of emotional output he would have to expel to satisfy my never-ceasing appetite for the written word. I'm an old-fashioned girl at heart--Facebook wall posts don't exactly do it for me. And while I bug him for letters year-round, one time he definitely can't shirk my request is on my birthday. *Evil cackle*

 Vase from the UW-L ceramics sale!

*A brief note regarding Neil's notes: So, if you don't know Neil you are probably reading the notes he wrote to me and thinking, What is wrong with this guy? Is he educated? Why is he spelling some words weirdly? Eez? Leef? Huh?

Neil is actually a very smart fellow. He scored high honors upon our college graduation while I earned only honors, something I occasionally grumble about. He can make your head spin with his knowledge of religious philosophy and he was accepted to one of the top graduate-level music programs in the country with a scholarship. He is a catch. But to escape the clamor of his intellect, he reverts to a silly, sly self. I noticed years ago that his obsession with capuchin monkeys was growing, and so when he'd run around acting crazy and boyish I christened this new persona Monkey Neil. He loves his nickname (I still refer to him as MN) and proudly reverts to monkeyish behavior at moments. It's quite cute, though I noted about a year ago that all of the letters that I had taken such care to guilt out of him were filled with monkey spelling and grammar, AKA eef, eez, leef, monkeh, etc... I realized that if I didn't reign in the monkeyness, the only non-electronic written record of our relationship would be monkeyfied. Monkey spelling will be hard to explain to my biographers when I'm dead, so I now urge him to keep the monkey outpourings to a minimum with letters.

There you have it! A brief history of Monkey Neil. I know it probably sounds really bizarre.

MN also gave me a Symphony bar (my favorite!) but it was melty. Hence his face.

As you can see, everything was a bit... dewy, lending to the ghoulish appearance I'm sporting. Neil told me to shut my eyes and he handed me this, not letting me open them up til he took a picture.

Recognize this fine feline? It's Monsieur the cat! Told you Neil was obsessed. Cat adoration is not something I have to force on him, unlike much of the rest of our shared life.

  

My last present that I didn't get until last weekend? Two of these beautiful library mugs. I already packed them away, though, as I don't trust anyone in our dirty boy house not to break them :)

Neil rested, post-food.

The dreaded mayflies were out and about as we walked to the car to do a bit more exploring.

About a minute past the overlook we'd picnicked at, we found the area that I'd visited with my grandpa on the way back from the Prairie du Chien flea market last month.You know, the area he designed and everything... no big deal...

Everything was so verdant that it almost looked unreal. We explored in the muggy heat, trampling around the deserted and slightly overgrown paths, pausing for photographs, never sure if the photos we snapped were good or not. You never know until later, but I think we got some good shots.

Doesn't it look like the greenery is engulfing me? That's how it felt to be in the thick of it, too.

As you can see, the monkey/12 year old boy is emerging here.

After uploading the pictures from that day, I also came across a significant amount of shots where my facial expressions were, uh, strikingly similar. The raw, no-holds-barred annoyance I was aiming at my bumbling boyfriend was perfectly preserved.

Please note that these photos were taken about 30 minutes apart from each other. Also note that there were more, but I was afraid people would think I was truly evil if I posted the whole series of them :)

The reason for my perturbed state is that my MN is stunningly similar to my mother in that once he holds a camera in his clutches he waits and waits and waits to snap a picture, like maybe the perfect moment will come after making the subject self-conscious and irritated. In contrast, I snap away, hoping to get lucky with some candids in addition to planning out the ideal moment to snap a picture. With digital cameras, why wait? I expect that 1/6 of the photos taken will be kept, the rest deleted, so I try to train Neil to snap away. These photos were taken when I was waiting, saying, What are you doing?! I'm sure. Or expressing some equally high maintenance sentiment. The crazy is particularly tangible in the second photo, I'd say. Alas, if only it could've captured the nose flare.

What a good boyfriend, taking the abuse, hoisting my bag around.

The end of our exploration, humidity hair having gotten the best of me, but you cannot beat that view.  Oh driftless region, oh, you've made me feel like a Wisconsinite. Finally.

And thus concludes a spectacular day trip facilitated by my charmingly silly and thoughtful boyfriend. We both bring our own brand of insane to the table, but I think we do a good job of tolerating each other, propping each other up, and growing up together. Relationships are messy and challenging and lonely sometimes, but this boy gets me, he really does.

day trip to viroqua: part two

After plotting our next move at the Optimo Cafe, JohnaLee and I headed to the Tobacco Shed to see what treasures were trapped inside. She kept gushing about it, but I didn't realize how awesome it would be until I saw it with my own eyes.

$4 aprons heaped messily on top of one another.

Endless records to paw through.

Quilts & assorted blankets in various stages of finishing.

Hand-embroidered Norwegian pillow. I lingered over this baby for a loooong time.

Light filtering through dirty, dusty old milk bottles.

Trunks, patchwork quilts, purses.

My violet quilt!

Glassware.

Every time I find a set of these rose glass sherbet cups I stare at them longingly. There's no room in my life for breakable things like these currently... I'm uprooted soon enough from WI for a few years, and I could end up anywhere after that, so these will be a someday purchase. When my life is stable enough to include a pretty cabinet to display these in I'll know the timing is right.

Tempting tablecloths. WHY, oh why do I love bright colors? Why can't I be a minimalist who only likes blue things, or, even more specific, plaid items in the shade of cerulean? As it stands I love a frenzy of colors and patterns, making it hard for me to avoid a variety of objects. My style can best be described as calamitous. I embrace it; it's my burden to bear. Still, I'm not sure that certain individuals in my life really get it.

No matter.  I will happily live alone in my refurbished farmhouse filled with books in floor-to-ceiling bookcases, old lady cabbage rose wallpaper on the wall. A cat named Hector constantly underfoot. Tall windows and huge couches stacked with soft quilts on the arms. Jars of buttons, cloth napkins, one TV in the house hidden away in a cabinet upstairs to watch the occasional movie/season of Mad Men. Large rooms filled with light. Land outside, space to grow and room to think, a big vegetable garden.

Along with daydreaming about my future home, I've been thinking a lot about what I want out of life. I feel like I have grown this summer, at least insofar as realizing what sort of life I want to live.

1. I want to live simply. 

Cutting out factory farmed meat. Growing my own vegetables when I have the land. Joining a co-op. Never having cable again. Creating things myself. Most of all this is mental: don't overcomplicate things. Don't get unnecessarily worked up. For the most part, life is pretty easy if you keep a laid-back mindset. There are challenging, ugly parts too, but facing it head on is all you can do. I would rather live with a lighthearted, snarky attitude. Pointless negativity without making a change doesn't get anyone anywhere. It just poisons those around you.

2. I want to feel my emotions freely

This means not telling myself "I shouldn't feel this way" for whatever reason: because it's improper, it will lead to a tough change, I don't want to confront that emotion, someone will laugh at me, etc. If you are honest with yourself you will grow. If you're not, you will likely shrivel up, emotionally speaking. I can't speak for others but whenever I've tried to dismiss an emotion it has come back in full force in a way that is even more challenging to deal with.

Obviously this doesn't mean blurting out some rude, unnecessary comment just because it pops into your head - dealing with emotions takes careful consideration. It's common to feel things that can seem out of control. Jealousy was always the one that got me. It would sneak up on me. My heart would beat so fast that I thought it would jump out of my skin. I could feel the adrenaline. I would practically snarl, tongue so sharp you could cut anything on it. I know from experience that it takes knowledge of oneself to utilize the non-animal part of your brain, to know what you can do to make yourself okay. (Yes, you; it's your crazy human emotions, after all - not someone else's. Personal responsibility first and foremost.)

So, what's the solution? Music? A moment of fresh air? Forcing your mouth into a smile that will puncture the tidal wave of whatever you are feeling? All of the above?

Sometimes we disappoint ourselves and each other. Apologize fast, and I mean fast. Pride is worth nothing at the end of the day. Forgive the worthy and forgive yourself.

3. I want to adapt

Life requires constant adaptation. You need to grow or the result is a stagnant life. I think the amount of books I read keeps my mind in a perpetual state of growing and changing. (Shameless plug for books!) I especially see adaptation as vital in terms of romantic partnerships and other relationships. People will be affected quite differently by life's circumstances. Sometimes it is worth weathering the storm, but sometimes, well, it isn't. Only you can make that call.

I don't want to be afraid to make that call. I don't want to fear mess and upheaval so much that I sacrifice valuable minutes, hours, years. I just want to live the best way I can. If I don't, there's no one else to blame.

4. I want to remember that it's okay to be alone

I have always loved to be alone. Yes, I have a group of people that I adore, but I can never have too much time to myself. I see a lot of codependency in my peer group and it makes me cringe. Relationships with others are important, yes, but only as important as the relationship you have with yourself. Get your mind out of the gutter - that is not (exclusively) what I am referencing. To me this means mostly that if I want to go do something and everyone else is busy, I do it anyway. Time spent alone is truly a luxury. I will teach my children this. By embracing your imagination you will never be lonely.

Watch this video. Right now. Do it.

5. I want to remain in awe

To me this means treasuring the small moments. Feeling grateful to my parents, friends, family - all those who help me, encourage me, make me laugh. It's easy to be weighted down by life. Bills, debt, hurt feelings, unfairnesses small and large, awful things you read on the news, costly mistakes, politicians of every stripe, death. There's really no getting around it: life is overwhelming. For some people, remaining in awe means giving thanks to their particular god. For me, I just try to actively recognize how beautiful our world is. I feel lucky every day to be healthy, educated, surrounded by inspiring people. Even on bad days, there is an endless list of things that are JUST SO AMAZING. Of course, it can be easy to forget at times. I'm no paragon of virtue, but I do know that gratitude takes a conscious effort. It won't just show up one day. It's not something you wait to adopt at a later point. You integrate it into your thought patterns and it will change you almost instantly.

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Whoa. Sorry if parts sounded a bit Dr. Phil-like, or Hallmarky. I've just been pondering a lot and I enjoy using this space to write it out. Verbalizing holds me accountable and it makes me feel powerful. I am a college graduate, I can legally drink, I have been deemed an adult by society. It's a really empowering thought to grasp that I can construct whatever sort of life I want for myself. I can be active, not passive, in creating and realizing my ideal life. Perhaps this is obvious or self-explanatory to some, but for me right now in this moment it is wildly new. Tender and thrilling. Joyous.

day trip to viroqua: part one

Today it is extraordinarily hot. (Yes, this is a post about Viroqua, but it's impossible for my real conditions right now to shrink to the background.) Just like the rest of the Midwest and various other parts of the country, Wisconsin is experiencing a heat wave. From Sunday til this upcoming Thursday it will have been in the nineties with a heat index hovering around 105 degrees. At night the heat index has remained at a steady 90 degrees. In an AC-less house, there is little refuge.

So, what is the heat like? The heat is like velcro snapping onto your skin as soon as you step out the door, locking the sweltering warmth within you. It swarms your lungs, filling them with cottony humidity. Breathing is heavy and laborious. My nights have been a feverish blur, like my brain is melting to the consistency of gelatin. It is hard to stay clearheaded and it is even tougher to maintain a positive mood. For the past two days I've pulled up our window fan to the square of carpet in our wood floored bedroom, plopped a pillow down and sprawled star-shaped in my underwear reading Patti Smith's Just Kids. The modesty I once felt in this boy-filled house has been eclipsed by the fervor of this unabating heat. Just Kids, the story of Smith and photographer Robert Mapplethorpe's years of love and friendship, drugs and sex, art and music, has also infiltrated my brain with its slick poetic prose. The heat turns the words molten and while I take them in I feel almost as though I'm one of the junkie hippie girls that Smith and Mapplethorpe spent time with in the late sixties and seventies.

I'm trying to drink water, read, accomplish small things, refrain from unleashing any negativity. This will pass. Two more days. Meanwhile, I will fondly reminisce about Viroqua to pass the time.

One sunny Saturday JohnaLee and I took a daytrip to Viroqua, WI. We left La Crosse at around 9 am and arrived in Viroqua at 9:45. The drive was enjoyable. Let me set the scene for you: Iron & Wine playing, the windows of the battered blue pickup rolled down, a feisty breeze turning my hair into a tangled mane, Wisconsin roads unfurling tidily in front of us. Blue sky. Talk of Norway, Sweden, Germany and shared heritage. Endless promise for the day to come.

After reaching Viroqua, our first stop was the small, bustling farmer's market located right downtown, which was filled with vegetables, ceramics, Amish quilts, honey, maple syrup, baskets and woodwork. 

To my surprise, we came upon a French crepe stand run by my librarian friend Teri and her French hubby Jean-Luc. They live in La Crosse, so I had no idea they would be in Viroqua. Apparently they adore Viroqua and want to move there, a fact that doesn't surprise me at all. They are exactly the sort of people who would want to settle in such a liberal, organic-friendly enclave, and they are exactly the sort of people current Viroquans would want to settle there. Teri and JL are two are amazing, creative people.

I'd had JL's crepes before at their house, so I already knew them to be quite worthwhile. JohnaLee and I both ordered the ham and swiss on buckwheat and retreated to a nearby bench to eat them. We considered sharing, but the temptation was too great. It practically makes my stomach growl to even see this picture again...

Post-crepes, we headed to the indoor market, a large high-ceilinged redbrick building filled to the brim with antiques and handmade goods.

Unfortunately this photo turned out blurry, but I'm pretty obsessed with these local bumper stickers and postcards. Especially the driftless ones!

The public market.

Haphazardly-placed treasures.

Does this floral print look familiar? It should. I bought the set!

Pretty doves.

After leaving the public market, a rack of sale wedding dresses caught JohnaLee's eye.

Imagine our surprise when the first one she tried on ended up being the one.

She was radiant. Though she tried on two other dresses, this $99 dress was perfect for her. Before she bought anything, however, we opted to walk around to give her more time to think about the purchase.

Downtown Viroqua was elegant and charming.

Stopped at a yarn shop.

Next up was the Optimo Cafe, which is only accessible through the public market.

At the Optimo, JohnaLee and I drank sweating glasses of ice water and indulged in midday pastries. We plotted our next stop (the Tobacco Shed filled with antiques) and she mused about whether she should buy the wedding dress. (After I showed her the photos I captured, it was pretty much a done deal.)

I was very content to explore Viroqua. I never really appreciated how beautiful my state is before having to contemplate leaving, possibly for good. Seeing new places refreshes me and reminds me to look for the beauty in all things.