Welcome to this weekly edition, where I’ll jump straight to things I’ve appreciated this last week…

Enjoying

A board game: The artwork on Transmissions was what drew my son’s attention to the box, and what lead us to buying the game as a birthday present. We finally pulled it out, watched the Youtube tutorials, and spent an evening immersed in play. The game’s design didn’t feel like anything we’d tried before - points are tallied once a resource runs out - and the objective isn’t the kind that has you mentally calculating your points and comparing yourself to your opponents as in Catan for example. I liked reading this interview with its designer, Adam West, here.

Make your art. This is the title of John Green’s YouTube video, and, just like the little essays in The Anthropocene Reviewed (the podcast he hosted from 2018 to 2020 - here) I appreciate the reminder. (here)

Uncertainty. In the same vein is this blog post from The Marginalian, which I found comforting to read… It is titled “The Creative Power of Uncertainty”. I like the phrase “a continuous ‘I don’t know’.”

Home remedy: I caught a cold last week. I ate a cookie one afternoon and then my throat was sore. In the evening I made Julia Turshen’s “Cold Elixir” (a recipe here) and discovered its warming effect on my dulled sinuses.

Back spasm: Muscle-relaxing pills are great for getting to sleep when I get a back spasm, but what helps me recover are short daily yoga sessions like those offered by Adriene Mishler. (This one in particular is a frequent repeat.) It doesn’t only stretch my muscles, it reminds me how to move in a way that protects my back.

Gratitude for the small things: A perfect poem as an oblique nod to the Thanksgiving holiday here in Canada. It’s titled “Love Like Salt” by Lisel Mueller.

Walking the dog

Leaves have turned and are falling. The last bit of colour on display until everything goes bare…

Scenery is a jumble of tall grass, untrimmed brush, and trees, but here I spotted a new bird house!

And on an overcast day, a calm river backdrop to highlight the silhouettes.

Happy Sunday!

An almost poem

I was struck earlier this week by how when I go about making a new habit, I'm uncomfortably clumsy at first. The scene: I'm tying the dog to the playground structure so I can hang from the monkey bars. It's all awkward and I don't feel good hanging from the bars yet. But in this as in anything, it takes a little while before you develop a deftness that looks like grace.

Another moment, that afternoon: As I cross Marion Street, a delivery man has hefted a box over his shoulder and steps down from the back of his truck as his other hand catches the strap that pulls down the door as he steps down from the platform and traces an arc from the street to the curb to the reception desk.

An exchange: My mother-in-law is sitting as a passenger as I drive down the tree-lined street to our house. She says: “ceux qui sont nés pour un petit pain, ça vaut rien… elle avait raison ma mère quand elle disait ça!”
“Aimes-tu des gros pains?” I ask.
“Oui!” She says.
“Moi aussi!” I say.

Later that evening: I'm driving home from having dropped her off. The sun is setting. Its rays reflect on the power lines that swoop over the road, making them shiny pink against the dark mauve clouds.

Quote

John Green is talking about the good feeling of cheering on a team, and yet his concluding line strikes an oddly spiritual note: "But hope is still correct because things might get better, especially when we all orient our love in the same direction.”

Courage

I'm inspired by high ideals - like seeing the medical staff on “The Pitt” or reading about nurses in the oncology ward at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia in the book Toms River. The author writes:

Many parents practically lived in the ward and went home only to shower and change clothes before rushing back. The nurses worked under the unforgiving gaze of mothers and fathers driven half-mad by lack of sleep and the sight of their children enduring a pitiless cycle of excruciating needle sticks, nausea attacks, and dressing changes. Parents would frequently take out their anger on the nurses, and the nurses who lasted on the ward learned to respond without rancor or condescension. (p 252 - emphasis mine)

What an amazing skill!

Granola

I have been making granola for myself as a snack for years, one batch lasting about a month. I first used a recipe from Orangette's blog and then switched to Joshua McFadden's in Six Seasons because it is very similar and omits the pecans. Consider this an ode to something simple I am grateful for.

National Geographic

This week I finished watching a National Geographic series titled "Photographer" It reminded me of Chef's Table... you get to feel like you're living in someone else's life for a little bit and you get to admire people who have great talent.

Episode 1, featuring Paul Nicklen and Cristina Mittermeier had these concluding remarks: "I have no desire to go live in a fricken' glass bubble. We are living in heaven, to think that there's been four billion years of evolution to arrive at this moment of perfection where, you know, this place is just beautiful. Where we can swim in crystal-clean water and you're surrounded by grizzly bears and black bears and there's whales that come up to you. And it's here and now." I like being reminded of the beauty of the earth!

Creative work

And I really appreciated a moment in Episode 2, from the above series, featuring Anand Varma, when he's recalling the first story he pitched to the magazine: "I had just pitched an idea that I did not know how to execute." He generously shares how challenging it was to translate an interesting subject (parasites) into an intriguing picture, that was not copying another photographer's style, that was intentional and new and that ended up making the front cover of the magazine. But it had been a struggle. At one point Varma says "None of it was working and I took over 5,000 pictures. I felt stuck. It was completely paralyzing."

It's similar to a frustration Hattie Crisell identifies with writing. She quotes, in her Substack, from a book titled Art and Fear by David Bayles… “The artist’s life is frustrating not because the passage is slow, but because he imagines it to be fast.” Crisell comments: “Ugh - so true. I write every day, but it takes me so long for an idea to crystallize and become substantial.” I so agree!

Enjoyed

An interview with Samin Nosrat on Song Exploder.

Postcard

This week's snapshot captures this year's first pelican! What a beautiful big bird!

Happy Sunday!