Cabin vibes, part two. I cannot wait to go back.

Cabin vibes.

Backyard scenes

Oh winter, what a blur. Ready for springtime adventures, and longing for the the woods, water, and open skies. 

February called for mid-west travels for an overdue family visit, and to finally meet my very new (and very tiny!) niece. It was a perfect and long weekend that made me wish that I could make these trips more often. Seeing my family more frequently would certainly be the number one reason, but I also tend to forget that I live in a tiny bubble in the Pacific Northwest. Traveling always leaves me with a new, or somehow forgotten/misplaced, perspective on how different other parts of the country can be, both in terms of the people and the landscape. Growing up in the mid-west always felt rather safe and suburban, and I always knew that I would it leave it as soon as I had the chance. There was a point in my life when trips to Chicago, Detroit, and Cincinnati were EXCITING. Travels, and the eventual move at 19, to Southern California were eye opening and life changing. Looking back, I suppose that I am rather grateful that I grew up in Ohio and Michigan, surrounded by vast open landscapes, with the occasional small city or town to break up the monotony of some of the flattest places on Earth.  Because now that I live, very close to, and work in a major city I long for cabins and camping, walks through dense forests, and rivers, lakes, ocean beaches, and small towns. Oh those damn tables turning and such.

I stumbled across the essay "Joy" by Zadie Smith, and oh my, is it required reading...

"It might be useful to distinguish between pleasure and joy. But maybe everybody does this very easily, all the time, and only I am confused. A lot of people seem to feel that joy is only the most intense version of pleasure, arrived at by the same road—you simply have to go a little further down the track. That has not been my experience. And if you asked me if I wanted more joyful experiences in my life, I wouldn't be at all sure I did, exactly because it proves such a difficult emotion to manage. It’s not at all obvious to me how we should make an accommodation between joy and the rest of our everyday lives."

In 2012:
We were snowed in for three days. I probably took more photographs this year than all of the previous years of my life combined. I crocheted and crocheted and crocheted some more. I attended several baby showers. We hosted many a BBQ, and stayed outside in the evening sun as much as possible. I watched more of our friends become parents. I watched a meteor shower from our backyard. I spent a weekend at a cabin in the woods with some of my favorite people, and drank and danced and explored. After leaving home over thirteen years ago my family finally traveled west. I married my best friend in the woods, in a month that was bookended by full moons, and my heart was, and is, very full. We camped near the beach twice and I laid in the warm sand and sun for long, quiet weekends. We took ferry rides that reminded me of why I love the Pacific Northwest so much. I declared summer 2012 the absolute best ever. I took Spanish lessons. In early fall we spent a weekend with friends and stayed in a cabin on the coast of WA. I witnessed two friends marry on the beach just before the sun began setting, and I danced my ass off that night. My niece was born. We traveled to Mexico for two weeks and it was a dream. My faith in humanity was restored, unfortunately this was only temporary. I explored the ruins in Tulum, laid in the white sand, and wondered how the Mayans could have left such a place. I spent a number of nights falling asleep to the static of crashing waves from different oceans. I rediscovered my love of sewing. I went to a parade at night. We had a fancy Christmas Eve dinner, and plan on making this a new tradition. We hosted friends for Christmas and ended the evening with fireworks. We went to first and second birthday parties. I took even more photos, with the determination and support to learn as much as possible.  We slept in, a lot. I didn't read enough books. We celebrated the year (and nine years together!) with friends, food, and bubbly. So much bubbly.

Immensely thankful for it all, and ready for a new year and new adventures.

I'm not always one to be in the holiday spirit, however this year I was determined to make it happen. The tree and lights were up, simmer pots full of oranges, cloves and cinnamon were constantly warming on the stove, mulled cider was made and drank. It all felt slightly forced at times, but once we were surrounded by friends - consuming too much food and boozy concoctions, hours of great conversations, fireworks being lit - it felt perfect.

I want to consume as many cozy evenings in as possible right now. Soup, and tea, and good reads. And I would be lying if I said I didn't wish it would snow a little. Seasonal cliches, oh how I adore thee. Also, Kinfolk is way overrated.

pale blue dot

Pale Blue Dot from ORDER on Vimeo.

Mexico

Mexico, November 2012. Honeymoon and overdue vacation to Playa del Carmen and Tulum. Perfection.

Iron Springs Resort - Copalis Beach, WA / October 6th - 8th

A third trip to the coast in a month and a half ended up being quite the perfect way to welcome the change in weather and seasons. Surrounded by friends for three days, a beachy, woodsy wedding was attended, fires were made, dancing was in full force, sunsets were watched, and a little bit of exploring and lazy times thrown in as well. Looking forward to making another trip in the winter for some stormy beach times, but for now I'm going to enjoy my favorite month.

Grayland Beach - Grayland, WA / September 16th

So long summer, you were truly wonderful.

Ocean City State Park - Ocean Shores, WA / August 31st - September 3rd

A weekend of camping at the coast was just what I needed. And the ferry ride back to Seattle was a good reminder of how beautiful this city is. After this trip I felt re-energized for the first time in weeks, ready for new adventures, ready to tackle my lengthy to do list, ready for a change in seasons