Bookish (and not so Bookish) Thoughts

I am not a fan of January. I deleted the long lament I initially wrote, and will sum it up briefly: between things at work and home, the cold dreary weather, plus the general post-Christmas emotional deflation, I feel lethargic and burnt out. Itwillpassitwillpassitwillpass.

I have started teaching myself how to embroider, which I think I might actually like more than cross-stitching. Sure, it’s more complex and the patterns aren’t as cut-and-dry, but I love the look and the fact that it’s actually a lot faster. The picture above is of my first attempt, and while there is definitely a great deal of room for improvement, I am admittedly quite pleased. I’m already weighing options for my next project and starting to plan some of my own patterns.

I am going to a Kamala Harris event this weekend with some friends in LA and I’m really looking forward to hearing what she has to say (and getting her new book). I have mixed feelings about her running for president, as I’m conflicted between playing it safe and supporting someone who will truly bring change (ie someone like Biden versus someone like Booker), but I am excited to learn more.

Sawyer, who will be five in April, is all of the sudden questioning his own mortality. LOVELY. We were driving to school the other morning and he voiced his concern regarding dying one day. It hasn’t been a topic in our home lately, but he’s been pretty fascinated with zombies, so I’m guessing his amusement has turned into curiosity and worry. Google told me this is fairly normal with preschoolers and I did my best to reassure him, but it wasn’t a discussion I was really expecting at 6:45 on a Monday morning. I try to approach all topics like this honestly and openly, but also in an age-appropriate context. Yes, we all die. Yes, men have penises and women have vaginas (well, assuming that’s how they identify, but we’re not there yet). Yes, sometimes guys marry guys and girls marry girls. Yes, mommies and daddies argue sometimes. I guess we’re just entering the next phase of parenting.  

While we’re being morbid, I have to confess something: I picked up Chomsky’s remains from the vet over a month ago and they’re sitting in the bag in our laundry room still. His collar is in my car, which is a nice little reminder, but his ashes are really just because my husband prefers that’s what is done with our deceased pets. He has Cordie’s, but Chomsky’s, whelp, they’re sitting in the laundry room sink in their nice cedar box (and no, Sawyer has no idea, so this isn’t where his preoccupation is coming from).

I am currently reading The Argonauts by Maggie Nelson and it’s definitely very different what I normally read. It’s labeled at “autotheory” and described as a “genre-bending memoir,” that describes her experiences pregnant, as a mother, and also as the partner of a person who doesn’t gender-identify. I think I’ve spent a fair amount of time over the past few years reading literature and nonfiction by people of color, but this is definitely a population of writers that I haven’t really delved into. I think I’m still sort of developing the vocabulary do adequately discuss what I’ve learned and read, but I’m planning on a post focusing on this book and my experience listening to Vanishing Twins by Leah Dietrich.

In the mood to bake cookies? I used to bake these chocolatepeanut butter cookies years ago and made them again last weekend. Sure, they require chilling and are really two cookies in one, but they’re so good and stay soft for DAYS.