“You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem…” – A. A. Milne
It’s one of those beautiful fall days. The sun sits high and warm in a crystal clear-blue sky, the fresh scent of grass delicately dances in the air, and yellow-stained leaves twist and twirl in the gentle breeze, trying their hardest to not let go of the life-giving branches they’ve called home for the past few months.
But a slight crispness surrounds us, a sign that the snowstorm forecast for tomorrow has started to reach its icy fingers our way, ready and waiting to snatch up these remaining summer moments that have somehow stretched into October.
Wanting to soak up that warm sun before it’s finally stolen away, we decide the afternoon would be best spent outside. Continue reading “Week 41: Letting Go of the Monkey Bars of Life | Everyday Nostalgia”
My daughter Zoey looks up at me, her face a mixture of excitement and anticipation. In her hands she holds a pastry bag, squeezing it just tightly enough that a bit of the rich, dark chocolate, buttercream frosting inside has begun to escape its shiny, silver, open star tip.
“Can I frost it now, Mommy?” Zoey asks hopefully, her voice faintly twinged with impatience.
The cake that sits on the table in front of her—the one on the business end of the buttercream pastry bag—has been our labor of love for the past two days. After Zoey announced that the only thing she wanted to do this weekend was make a “fancy” cake, I made it my mission to make sure I provided the perfect cake-making experience for her. And after hours of baking, making buttercream frosting from scratch, creating colorful flowers out of flavored Tootsie Rolls, and mixing, rolling out, and covering a two-layer chocolate cake with pale turquoise marshmallow fondant, it appears that we have perfectly executed the task at hand.
It looks simply delectable. Continue reading “Week 37: Redefining Perfection | Everyday Nostalgia”
It’s 5 o’clock on a Wednesday, and this early evening hour finds me standing in a schoolyard. Between the bright, white grids of newly-painted foursquare and hopscotch courts staring up at me and the smell of freshly-scattered wood chips tickling my nose, it’s no wonder I’ve just been momentarily transported back to my childhood. Although no one is here other than me, I can picture how this playground looked and sounded just a few hours earlier: The streak of red, green, and navy uniform-clad children filled with happy smiles, the squeak of bare skin against the slide, the metal clang of high-flying swings, and the loud peals of unfiltered, easy laughter.
A few freshly-fallen leaves dance around my feet, and although the breeze that lifts them is warm, there is a slight crispness to it—a good reminder that the official start of fall is just around the corner. Continue reading “Week 36: A Renewed Excitement for Tomorrow | Everyday Nostalgia”
I’m standing in front of my mailbox, mindlessly sifting through my Monday mail. Between the grocery store flyers, a postcard reminding me to purchase new tires in preparation for winter weather, and a parking ticket addressed to my apartment’s previous tenant, I’m unimpressed with the day’s delivery.
I’m not paying attention to my surroundings, and as I shut the small metal door of my mailbox, I’m startled to find a man standing next to me. Though I know him—he lives across the small courtyard that separates our apartments—his appearance surprises me and causes the contents of my hands to quickly scatter to the floor below us.
Continue reading “Week 34: Underneath the Same Big Sky | Everyday Nostalgia”
It’s morning, and I’m walking down our long upstairs hallway toward my brother’s bedroom. Just moments before, Kurt had woken me up, telling me I needed to come look at something. I hadn’t wanted to get out of bed, but he’d insisted. So here I am, eight years old, following my brother down the hall while I’m still half asleep, wondering what on earth warrants this type of urgency so early in the day. His door is closed, but when we reach it, Kurt turns back toward me instead of going in.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Ready for what?” I whisper impatiently.
“For this.” Kurt places his hand on the knob and gently pushes the door open. Continue reading “Week 33: The Preservation & Protection of Beauty | Everyday Nostalgia”