the teacup pages

gillian murphy & ethan stiefel of the american ballet theater in an ad for swan lake, 2006

2012-02-06T20:41:00.002-06:00

it's a leap year

2012-02-01T16:28:00.002-06:00

2012-01-30T10:12:00.000-06:00

a story i wrote a very long time ago

2012-01-22T21:19:00.007-06:00

remembering all the snowmen and snow wives, the firesides, and the sky.

2012-01-19T21:27:00.010-06:00

my mama called to tell me it's snowing in new england. i will go to sleep tonight with dreams of dark snowy nights in my heart.

a hint to the new year

2012-01-09T12:26:00.007-06:00

christmas wishes

2011-12-07T22:17:00.014-06:00

it's the time of year for everything cozy and extra beautiful...

for snowflakes, gingerbread men, and twinkling lit candles in the window.

for santa clauses and nativity scenes, cookies and cakes, hot chocolate, and red mittens.

for family, good friends, and christmas wishes.

my greatest christmas memories were of freezing windy nights inside, when all lights were off except for the tiny white ones on the christmas tree. you would find me hiding peacefully under a pile of blankets on the couch, in my cotton nightgown by a slowly dying fire, knowing how surely the snow was piling outside. although i couldn't feel it, the idea of it was cold.

there was never a better way to fall asleep. in fact, i'd impatiently wait the whole year for my personal season of winter slumbers in the living room when i could stare at the ornaments on the tree and make friends with my favorite ones (whispering to them delicately what i had asked santa for that christmas): a ballerina with curly hair, a shepard boy, and a mouse in a nightcap tucked into a matchbox reading a tiny copy of 'a christmas carol.'

the feeling i had in my heart i had no notion of at the time, but i know now it was love. the kind of love that is because it is.

the unrecognized excitement over the unrecognized feeling of love that was of those silent christmas nights. safety and simplicity. love and dreams and christmases wishes.

my little one, my best ever friend

2011-11-07T22:13:00.000-06:00

home and october snow

2011-11-03T11:07:00.012-05:00

my visit home was made of creeping morning mists and alarm clocks that didn't sound. i ate warm food that made my cold tummy happy and laid by the fire in a house that was a home. i walked through the small town streets at night in the cold, over piles of dry leaves, expecting to run into the ghost of who i was just one year ago.

then there was that night when the storm came, and it snowed all night, and it snowed all the next day. we lost power and had to cook our dinner over the wood stove and light a hundred candles and find our way to the next rooms carefully after they all burnt out. the river was strong the days after, when all the melting snow was running down from the mountains.

i'm back in denver now, where i don't feel as whole, but where life keeps going in a different kind of way. surely i will miss everyone come the holiday seasons, but i always have books and my imagination when there is nothing else to know.

october

2011-10-16T13:40:00.002-05:00

l(a

le
af
fa
ll
s)
one
li
ness

- e.e. cummings

because it is

2011-09-05T21:07:00.012-05:00

late friday night i walked around walmart looking for a sports bra and a pair of sneakers after i played footsie with a boy at a restaurant where we drank wine and ate steak and made fun of overly proper people. i wore a new shirt and a gold broach.

saturday i sat in a cool, quiet basement with a darling girl who rocked her babe into a slumber that lasted long enough for us to snack on oreos, sip on cold beer, and chit chat like girls do. later we walked through a supermarket collecting ingredients for s'mores in celebration of these last days of summer. two boys made us a fabulous dinner. there was wine and an outdoor fire. it was cold enough to wear a sweater.

sunday a boy and i ate peanut butter sandwiches near a lake that reminded me of the shores of maine. i fed the ducks and saw a crane. then we napped until it was bedtime, woke when the rest of the world would decide to fall asleep, and ventured out for margaritas and ibuprofen. i meant to buy ground coffee, but i forgot because i was distracted by a pretty set of whisker-hidden lips finely pursed beside me, and shiny bags of halloween candy near the aisle of picnic supplies.

monday is today, and today i ate quiche and fresh fruit and enjoyed a pumpkin spiced latte. bought candles and layed on my new couch. pulled a book from the shelf for the season. a story about a proud man and a headstrong woman who dislike each other so very much that the only thing to bloom between them is a beautiful connection.

from massachusetts to denver

2011-08-30T14:50:00.010-05:00

sunday evening delivered to me a special surprise.

i had walked half a mile from my apartment to a bus station...

where i took a shuttle to a train station...

where i waited twenty minutes for a train that i rode for nearly an hour...

that dropped me off at a large shopping center just closing...

where i waited in a slight drizzle under the slight light of a setting sun...

where my aunt and uncle picked me up and took me to their home for the night.

my dad was there waiting for me. but never in a thousand years would i have imagined he would be.

it was a perfect feeling to fall asleep that night not alone in a noisy city, but rather in a dark and quiet house where my father was, safe from the hurricane. i listened to the crickets. felt the air and how it was cool.

something made me feel as though by morning i'd wake in my attic room in shelburne falls and find coffee, english muffins and fried ham on the kitchen table, with half a sun poking up behind a tiny hill. and no late august morning in new england is complete without a leaf or four falling from the old trees on the front lawn to remind you that soon enough it will be too cold to swim in the river and dry off in the sun, but either way you are safe and this is home.

yes, home is not so much where the heart is, but simply how it feels.

excuse me, which way to the moon?

2011-08-22T22:54:00.006-05:00

first there was an airshow where we saw a little yellow plane zip up and down and twirl about in the sky. there was the smell of kettle korn, hot dogs, hangars, and hot pavement.

then we drove the 90 minutes up in elevation, checked into the stanley and rode our bikes around the lake. i was always out of breath or needing water. fell down just once. hurt my left knee, my right ankle. ripped my favorite jeans.

we saw a hawk catch a fish in the water and fly away with it over the highway, and even higher over a parking lot of trailers and horses and sun-weathered western folk walking around in riding boots and cowboy hats. we saw lightning hit the mountains, so near our heads.

the next morning: banana foster red rum french toast, biscuits and gravy, eggs benedict, pineapple juice and fresh coffee for breakfast.

sought adventure into the tallest mountains. climbed rocks and threw rocks, picked flowers, felt the cold and the fresh of streaming water. lastly there were dreams in a king sized bed before we woke to ride home. it was a beautiful weekend filled with the very simplest of all things.

some shine

2011-08-14T23:18:00.009-05:00

caught the number 16 late friday afternoon. rode it along colfax into lakewood.

i sat on a patio in the thinnest of august air, the kind that tells you summer is almost over, and thought about the sweaters i have yet to buy.

tried sake for the first time, pet a cat named norma jean, ran from a spider, and sometime later there was a game of pool.

saturday was good to us too.

we had coffee and blueberry strudel for breakfast and then rode our bikes to an outfield where we napped for a long time.

spotted a horse on the way home and stopped to visit with him. he was dirty, but kind, and i watched him watch us ride away.

then there was a cold bath, a kiss or two, and an attempt to make pudding at ten o'clock at night.

i visited a bookstore after. bought an ice cream. walked home at sunset.

2011-08-09T22:25:00.008-05:00

i've been falling into a deep and stormy love with horses.

met one just today with hair like velvet, that smelled of the wild, with eyes like a dough's, but with fire behind them. i felt i might cry, for reasons undefined, but i know it was because of this creature. i put my hand on his nose. he stood still, breathing as if speaking, and stared at me fully.

and then i moved my way to his side

and there rested my head

and closed my eyes

and forgot about all of the world.

chocolate chip eyes

2011-08-07T23:14:00.004-05:00

i had coconut milk for breakfast.

swam in a lake this afternoon.

i layed in the sun near a boy with eyes like hazelnuts, or chocolate chips.

i ate a bowl full of sprinkles and took off my clothes.

the night i filled your glass with water

2011-08-02T22:04:00.004-05:00

please, can we be thick like swamps, and swim and love in the mud like crocodiles do?

2011-08-01T19:50:00.009-05:00

i spent the weekend in lakewood with prince charming. wore my new jeans made of shark skin and magic while i happily slaved away in a summer hot kitchen putting together a dinner my mother would be proud of. i have her special touch with flavor and presentation, although i do seem to be a bit of a woos when it comes to cutting onions. i've always believed i would make a great house wife, and not just because i can multi task so well, but because sometimes there truly is nothing like wearing heels, red lipstick, and an apron to wash dishes or bake a cake.

after dinner we napped. after we napped we woke to find the sun had set. the decision was to ride our bikes, so we did. we road over hills, came across a lake, dark fields and stables full of sleeping horses. we road through a massive construction sight where one of us fell down and scraped a knee; an injury which a bandaid might help, but a kiss will heal. then we climbed the rooftop of a church that looked like a space shuttle. the street lights went out and i got scared, but it was alright because we could see the stars.

on the way home we stopped for ice cream, and after only the sprinkles and whipped cream on my sundae were gone i looked at the boy in silence and smiled before we ended the night side by side in the dark.

magical memories

2011-06-10T14:22:00.009-05:00

i miss magic kingdom sunsets, corn dogs and fireworks. i miss wake up calls from mickey, and kisses from minnie, blown from afar. i miss the baby ducks in the pool at the grand floridian, mickey's cookies 'n cream ice cream sandwiches, and the sounds of the electrical water pageant at night that made my heart more happy than cupcakes and jack-o-lanterns.

when i was a little girl, all i wanted was to be a mermaid

2011-04-29T14:26:00.004-05:00

i like the smell of your bedsheets

2011-03-12T21:47:00.034-06:00

i know more of you every time i find a freckle on your body i hadn't seen before. there are three on your right shoulder.

i'll knock on your door once more

2011-03-08T14:23:00.016-06:00

that one time we kissed in the dark in the wind on a hill...

we stared at city lights and a winter sky.

we walked in the snow.