My mom takes her coffee black, I take mine with cream.

Saturday morning, at my kitchen table.


Yesterday morning, at our favorite coffee shop in Boston.

"All things seem possible in May." - Edwin Way Teale

Saturday morning iced coffee and a cinnamon roll from Flour bakery. Sumanth doesn't usually like eating on the ground, but he made an exception this time, evidenced by his shoe in the corner.


The fireplace in my beautiful room at an inn in Vermont where I helped with a Children's Literature New England conference. It was snowing that weekend, so the fireplace got some use.



Watching gorillas blows my mind--this one in particular because we kept locking eyes and her expressions and gestures were so recognizable.

Menu, May 2010

Written on D'Nealian pad while waiting to be retrieved from T.F. Green airport near Providence. Emily presumably stuck in traffic meanwhile, clutching the GPS with her free hand. Edits mostly from her.



And some more from Emily's dad's visit — walking the arboretum, circling the bonsai exhibit, and then supper.

Three things this April has brought...

A walk with my dad through these brilliant tulips on Boston Common.


A formal occasion that entailed the curling of my whole head of hair.


Dinners cooked outdoors on our little new grill in our little new yard.

Three Things to Love about Our New Apartment

My mother has always had a hutch for all of her favorite dishes and now I have one, too. I love lighting the lemon candle (thanks, Jodi!) on the top shelf first thing in the morning while I make coffee and putter around the kitchen.


After years of not having a window above the kitchen sink--we have two! (Although, if I were making a list about three things to be confused about about our apartment, I would have to add the fact that that is our neighbors' laundry hanging in our "own" yard.)


This extra room upstairs is the spot I love the most. It's the perfect place for peppermint tea and reading in the late afternoon. And, it doubles as a cozy guest room, so if anyone wants to come to Boston...

Lots of things to love about Valentine's Day (including a 12 inch wide everything bagel)

2010 has started softly,

with small trips, like this one to the Gloucester shoreline, where the water had washed away all of the snow,



with fancy desserts for Sumanth's birthday,



and time to read whatever I choose, including this lovely edition of Anne.



Oh, yeah, and some shiny new shoes...

The last bits to love before 2010

Eggnog lattes without accompanying papers to write.



New job interview suit.



A clean slate of snow for the ducks in Boston Common. (And for me.)

November, my last full month as a grad student...

has been more busy than photographed...December is only hours away and I have but one measly picture of me reading away on one of these November nights. (And, it is an accident that I am even in this picture as Sumanth was taking pictures of our new furniture arrangement and I just happened to be there.) In two weeks, when I have turned in the last of all of these looming papers, I will make up for this lame post with lots of things to love about December, namely my new freedom!

Oh, October!

Dear me. This month has been so tightly packed that I almost missed documenting it here. Almost.

Amidst the larger issues that have been consuming me--beginning to wrap up school, learning (how very much time and energy it takes) to grade student papers, and applying for jobs, (not to mention flying to Chicago to meet my newest nephew!), these are three things that have made me very happy this month:

I ran into Sumanth on the T. It was bound to happen sometime, and after nearly two years here now, it has. I was coming from studying downtown with a friend, and Sumanth was coming from stopping at the post office after work. The train car that I was in was packed full, rush hour full, and I was fiddling with my ipod and I looked up and there was Sumanth's bright, superman-blue sweatshirt right in the middle of so many crazed commuters.



My mom came to visit and we found this sculpture of a horse that her art teacher eyes recognized from far away. She said, "Is that a Deborah Butterfield horse?" "No," I said, "just some horse." Sure enough, when we walked up to it, we read the plaque; my mom was right about the sculptor, and the horse's name is Henri. Now I think of her wonderful visit every time I see him.





I have found a new coffee shop. This is a picture from the outside. I go and get an americano in a purple mug and one of these brioche and it reminds me of the coffee shops I went to in france. The fall leaves look beautiful from its windows even when the sky is gray.