song

i have come to think of home as a few select places where i know within the quietness of my heart and the rhythm of my step that i have a life here -  my heart beats among the many and i belong.

after visiting my colorado home and basking in many celebrations of love (wedding! engagement! birthday!), i worried that the stress of returning to work after a three week hiatus would overshadow the sense of homecoming that softens the blow of ending a vacation. and i was right. for two days, jet-lag and the game of catch-up did their best to keep my head down and keep my plodding on through the slog of responsibilities that had patiently waited for my return.

but last night, as i left work, the familiar strains of a few chords of accordian music reached my ears and i laughed out loud. you see, there is a person (man, i think) who sits between a department store and the bus stops along Bismarckplatz and plays the same song on the accordian over and over and over again. in fact, i am not entirely sure it can be called a song as much as a series of chords: daa da daa da daaaa da da daa da daa daa da da... maddening and comforting all at the same time. i am home.

fall

in spite of my best efforts to stop writing so much about the weather, i realized that weather is poetic and there is just no way around it. emily dickinson, robert frost, henry david thoreau, they all wrote about weather.

and this is the truth - fall is invigorating. as much as i bemoaned the end of summer and maybe yelled at the weather woman on tv when she announced the last day of summer weather, the crisp fall air wins me over every time.

the cool air, blue skies, and sidewalks littered with yellow leaves as big as my head never fail to excite and inspire. and they make me want to eat the fruit that best personifies the season - an apple.

and speaking of apples, i offered one to my boss' kids (two boys with lovely irish accents) who promptly asked me to next time please buy things that they like. oh the honestly of kids. also shockingly refreshing. 

go eat an apple. fly a kite. rake some leaves. enjoy fall. as long as we are starting the long descent into winter darkness, at least we will go out in style. ~love~

reset

in the words of a dear friend: iwanttostartbloggingagain. seriously. I really want to return to this place where I can practice writing and sharing and recording this great adventurous life that i live. but, of course, the first step is the hardest. ok, maybe the first few steps.

a further impetus to dive back in came in the form of dr. steven bloom - author, professor, and fellow library employee. I ran into him on the streetcar and we started talking about writing. He reminded me of the important fact that really everyone can write - its a no-talent sport, if you will. Doctors and lawyers, teachers, train conductors, authors, and bakers - we can all pick up a pen and write something. The key is practice. So, I am here to practice.

I have stories to tell and words inside of my heart that need to find form - I hope you will continue to return to this place to journey along with my bumbling efforts. ~love~

The Sky is Falling!

Starting around Easter, things got really busy at work. At first, I stocked it up to the multiple days off of work, the changes going on in the DAI and a couple of special events that I was in charge of. Now, several weeks later, I am beginning to think that this is actually normal. That the slow, quiet days of February and March were the exception, not the rule.

I don't mind being busy, in fact, I quite enjoy it. My days just fly by in a flurry of phone calls, emails, power point presentations, books and library patrons. I have now successfully transferred 2 calls without accidentally hanging up on anyone. I have, with a fair amount of confidence, advised students and parents alike on subjects ranging from visa information to how to find an internship to how to look for a college to possible summer jobs.

here

And in the midst of this high-tempo multi-tasking, there never ceases to be any number of crazy things that happen. I'll set the stage for you: It was about 4:30 in the afternoon, I was sitting at the front desk, with my email open to the newest information from the consulate on exchanges, with a word document open with a list of children's picture books to order, and a new library member waiting for me to process his library card (can I please briefly interject to tell you how much I enjoy laminating cards? Its a strange joy that I simply can't explain). While I was doing all of this, some other DAI employees were moving tables, setting up for a reading and discussion with a relatively famous author which took place later that evening.

A miscalculation.

A little too much momentum.

A crash.

four

shelves

worth

of

books

tumbled

down

They missed my head, they missed the computer. They woke up the entire building.

So this is what chicken little was talking about...


~love~

Forgetful

When starting a new job, there are a lot of things to learn and remember within a short period of time. In this situation, i imagine that people who are very structured thinkers have a distinct advantage. i imagine this because i am not a structured thinker. my brain is chaos. i have to-do blobs instead of to-do lists. in a blob, all of the things that i would like to do and keep track of have the exact same importance and are not as easily distinguishable as tasks in a nice, tidy list. this is my burden.

my new job requires me to be juggling a lot of things all at once - a challenge which i gladly accept. however, there are a certain number of growing pains to deal with in this learning experience. which leads me to a list of the things i have actually forgotten, or imagined i have forgotten at 3am within the first month or so of work. (to add to the entertainment value, i'll let you guess which ones are real and which ones just the result of an overactive imagination in the middle of the night.

• lock and put away the money box
• turn off all computers/printer/copy machine
• bring in the seat cushions from the patio (you know, because of rain)
• put away the laptop
• answer an (or several, probably important) email(s)
• post an important event on the blog/facebook/homepage
• put away the projector

i often think back to my early days as head waitress at the ranch, in which i once (famously or not so famously) trekked down to the dining room in the middle of the night to turn off the coffee machine and bread warmers. 

despite this, i am enjoying my days in the library and my confidence as a student advisor grows noticeably each week. i even survived my very first info-session for people who want to study in the states. i love meeting people and hearing about their passions so that i can help them realize a dream to study or work in the US. i am exceedingly blessed. ~love~

Change

Spring is such a beautiful reminder of change and growth. Its the time when you can see a difference in the blossoms on a tree within days or even hours. and this change? this growth? it is nothing short of a miracle. it is beautiful and unexplainable and just good. and thats just it. we are not meant to stay still and avoid change. as much as i whine about winter and cold, i am so in love with the change that comes at the end of it.

i have had a good deal of change in my life in recent months (hence the lack of blogging) but it is so so good. i am settling into my job as a person who wears so many hats that i really have to make and keep to my to do lists and appointment book. but the truth is, i truly love it. i talk to people about something that i am passionate about - cultural exchange. i get to plan really fun story times for kids with a great group of women. i interact with people from literally all over the world on a daily basis. i teach. i discuss. i listen. and i do all of it surrounded by books!

i am thankful for change and growth and this unexpected life that i lead. thanks for sticking with me through it all. ~love~

Ode

To all the blog posts in my head...

you were beautiful as i rode the shady lane on the first day the trees were blooming.

you were clever as i walked the rainy streets of Heidelberg and noticed a child - turned into a turtle by his over-sized umbrella - jump. in. every. puddle.

you were ironic when that deep freeze from siberia settled in

you were emotional on that day when everything seemed to go wrong

you were funny on the day that every child seemed to be crying

you were all sorts of things as i walked, biked, traveled, sat, ate, lived these last few months.

i'm sorry i didn't take better care of you. write you down. commit you to memory. tell you to someone other than myself. you really were great but now you have left me with nothing but faint whisperings of what you once were. now i will let you rest. because there is more to discover and more to learn. hopefully i will take better care of those that come. ~love~

a somewhat awkward blog post

...in which I sort of skip over the fact that I haven't written anything here since Christmas and jump in to a soliloquy about my love for spring.


These days of spring - they are darn near perfect.


I track the coming green each morning when I raise my blinds.


The greatest thing about spring in Germany has got to be the flowers. I don't know if Germans are the only people who so brilliantly celebrate spring - but I know I had never seen it before my very first German spring in 2009. Under the grass in medians, on lawns, in parks - wherever there is a small patch of green - some hopeful people planted bulbs. At the first signs of spring, those first few days of thaw, these hopeful buds start sprouting - slowly growing taller than the grass. First the crocuses - purple, white and yellow - bravely lead the color parade. Then the daffodils, turn their happy faces to the sun - bidding it to shine warmer and longer than before. Finally the tulips, oh those beautiful tulips, they show off the colors of the new life of spring.

Someday, when I have a patch of green that belongs to me, I want to be the kind of person who plants bulbs under the grass. I want to live every day with that kind of faith and that kind of hope - there is life, there is spring, there is rejuvination, growth, change. I want to plant bulbs in my own heart, and those of the little ones I teach, bulbs of love, joy, patience, kindness, respect, hope - bulbs that will bloom again and again to exemplify beautiful and growing hearts.


~love~