Joan Didion: Writer Extraordinaire

  Not many people are able to express thoughts and experiences the way Joan Didion does in her writing. From "Goodbye to All That," an essay describing loving and leaving New York, to her memoir, The Year of Magical Thinking, her words cause the reader to understand someone's life experience as though it were their own. I never thought I might end up living in New York in my twenties, but I derived some encouragement--and even a challenge--from her writing. She is beautiful and quirky. Not to mention the camera's love for her throughout her lifetime. 

  In addition to her unique way of approaching words, her personality made its appearance in her packing list as well. Her well thought through process of packing during her years as a reporter gave her the confidence and tools she needed to do her job well. I found the greatest surprise on her list was a typewriter. I guess before a Macbook Air that was the only choice! 

Currently Listening: "Turn It Around" by Lucius

Sylvan Esso.

     

Spending not-so-free time listening to this duo lately. We are heading down to Prospect Park towards the end of this month to see them play in Celebrate Brooklyn! It is amazing how many free activities this city has to offer throughout the summer. Looking forward to good tunes and times with friends. 

If you have experienced the rain New York has, this might be a good choice while stuck indoors. Wishing you a summer full of sun.

Currently Listening: "Coffee" by Sylvan Esso

Jeni's splendid ice creams.

   I don't know if many people have come to experience the delight that Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams is, but if you find yourself near a location go! Saunter into the cheery, subway tiled dessert bar and gaze and the perfectly drafted Chalkboard menu. Jeni's has taken the ice cream parlor experience, and not to mention the ice cream itself, to a whole new level. It is a shop designed to bring people together to experience creativity and friendship. Jeni Britton Bauer is the master chef behind the cold creations and she has cultivated a splendid company. Starting out in the Buckeye State of Ohio, Jeni has worked for a decade to build her vision and gather others to join her on the road. 

   All of the ice cream, frozen yogurt and sorbet is hand made. From local cows and Ugandan coffee beans, natural ingredients join to develop the delicious flavors. Jeni keeps her hands in every part of the operation. Though she has delegated responsibilities to others, she enjoys the creative process whether it be a new flavor or the decor in a new shop. She tells of her journey in this interview with Sweet Paul. Due to her hard work, she can now delight in the success of her efforts and continue to be a master chef. 

   Jeni's commitment to growing her business brought a shop to the Westside Provisions District in Atlanta. I am so glad I was living in the city when it was running in full swing. On that note, Jeni, Bring a shop to New York City!

Currently Listening: "Slow Motion" by PHOX

in bloom.

The city has been blowing me away with beautiful days. I nearly forgot what seventy degrees and sunny felt like! These were some flowers I picked up at the market on a nice walk home with J. Fresh flowers at home brings a joy to my spirit and lightens the load of final papers and projects. Just a week to go and then a break for the summer.

Cheers!

our southern wedding.

  There are those days in life that you remember most. It might be simple details strung together that formed a fond memory. It could also be a grand event that took much deliberate thought and planning. Through tears and moments of inadequacy, Jason and I reached the day I will forever hold dearly in my heart and mind's eye. Our wedding day was October 19, 2013. The beginning of the day was anything but perfect. I woke up at six o'clock with rain tapping fervently at my window. In hopes that I was dreaming or that sleep would clear the skies, I fell back into a deep slumber. A few hours later the alarm sounded. It was still raining.
  We travelled down to the country home from my parents house squished into a car. We enjoyed chatting and excitement rumbled throughout my body. I felt as though it was any other normal day. Sitting in the small Honda Civic, I reflected on the past days, weeks and years even. Jason and I had travelled a muddy road, much like the then soiled dirt road my parents' live on. After friendship and courting, a relationship and long-distance, we were approaching a clear path in the midst of a thunderstorm.
   I can't say that I was not worried. By mid-morning our wonderful friends were setting up our outdoor wedding in the rain. Antiques were left until the rain passed, but everyone worked relentlessly to ensure the wedding was set to go at four o'clock. I could not tell you how many times I said to myself, "it's not raining that much," to keep myself from falling into tears. I would not let the day be ruined. Jason called me that morning. Sweetly, he reminded me that he was going to marry me that day. I mentioned that I might be walking down a wet aisle and he responded saying that it would be no drier than his eyes. At that moment, I knew the day would be perfect.
   My best friend since fifth grade curled and pinned my hair, reminding us of the days we would put on make up and take tons of pictures to pass time. My momma and sister gathered around me and helped put me into my wedding dress--the same dress my mother wore walking down the aisle to meet my daddy in 1978. It came time for pictures and the sun was starting to show its face. It was perfect and I was beyond pleased.
  From that moment on, there were no hiccups. I lived the rest of that day as though I were in a dream. I cried walking down the aisle to take Jason's hand. I laughed joyously as we ran down the aisle as pronounced "Howells." I danced into the night with my husband by my side, and even better, in my arms. And to end the evening, I drove a vintage, fire engine red VW bug off to our honeymoon. I loved that day. Luckily, I wake up to a reminder of my wedding every day.