Athena and the Pineapple

Source: 25.media.tumblr.com via Lisa on Pinterest

White pineapples are popping up all over our yard, toppling over with the weight of their own spines, sweet juices and fierce crown of thorns. It takes three to seven years for a pineapple to reach maturity, so it feels quite decadent to slice them up after our two month tenure in the tree house.

New pineapple plants can be started by simply planting the sharp green crown. An image keeps popping up in my mind of Athena springing fully formed from the head of Zuess. There is the pineapple regenerating itself through it's head, like a god, and me with those juices dripping down my chin. What blessings I've enjoyed in this sacred place.

I feel myself vibrating with life in this moment of transition- more so than in any of the many moves I've made before. Is that because of what I've learned here? The changes in myself? Growing older? The excitement of having another challenge at last? The light seems to glitter on every leaf and mossy rock and wave as I walk up and down the side of this volcano. I feel holiness in every sharp spike and slurpy bite of this delicious plant. Savoring it all with a bittersweet delight.

August: Going Steady Cake

August’s Cake of the Month is really a cake from June and the truth is, I was feeling too blue about Dan & Lisa leaving the Big Island to write this post. In Heartburn, Nora Ephron wrote about how when you are part of a couple, you date other couples until you find a pair you want to go steady with, and then you do everything together. She describes a foursome that go to great lengths and long adventures to find great food and happy moments together. 

Dan, Lisa, Eric and I cooked pizzas, drank fancy chartreuse cocktails, went on long hikes, paddleboarded, sewed, hot tubbed and went hunting wild turkeys. We spent entire afternoons at our favorite black sand beach. We had very boozy all day long Thanksgiving dinners and Easter brunches. We waited three hours in a parking lot icy Waimea to get Jack Johnson tickets. We went steady with Dan and Lisa. 

Their last party was celebrating everything- their engagement, Lisa’s Birthday, selling all their stuff, and their precious time in Hawaii. It surprised me how sad I felt to see them go. After all, we'd only really known each other two years. But these two charming people are so crazy in love with each other, and with life itself, that knowing them makes you feel more in love with the world you live in too. I was sad to lose them as a daily part of our lives- where you don't have to tidy up or change out of your sweatpants before they come over. You can root around in their fridge, and they can root around in yours. You know each other's secrets and complaints, pet peeves and favorites and your text history is pages and pages long.  

Anyway, I wanted to tell them all of this but knew I would cry, so I decided to bake a really beautiful cake instead. I spent a few days on an almond cake, in a very classic wedding style. It was a rich yellow cake with  a light almond flavor, whipped cream, raspberry filling, loaded up with rich fluffy buttercream and the sides coated with more toasted almond slices. I put two little yellow birds on top and cradled it in my lap on the bumpy south Kona road and through the leafy greens of the coffee farms up to their sweet little cottage in the woods.

All their friends came out to say farewell and everyone brought something delicious to share. Lisa outdid herself (as usual) with braised ribs and bruschetta and stuffed mushrooms and Dan built a big bon fire in the backyard, and his friend who runs the Kava farm brewed Kava and served it in hollowed out coconut shells and we all relaxed and talked and ate and celebrated all the many ways you can love other people. And then they cut the cake, and I made them feed little pieces to each other, and they were embarrassed, but they did it anyway, and then everyone had a slice and a glass of champagne and toasted these two people who so obviously belong together and are so well loved by anyone and everyone who knows them.  And I didn’t cry, my eyes just got a little watery, because of love, love, love.

Happy Birthday Hawaii. Here's what you've taught me.

Photo via Hawaii Magazine with a fascinating article about why statehood is still controversial in this state.

Today is the 53rd anniversary of Hawaii's admission to the United States. Government offices (including schools) are all closed. Not everyone in Hawaii is glad to be part of the United States but I wanted to mark today by making note of what I've learned during my three years here, as we prepare to leave. 

I've learned not to focus on what a place isn't, but what it is. I've learned that even on an island, it's easier to try to change everyone but yourself. And I've also learned that there is a Hawaii that I have only seen hints of. This island has mana, energy, "the stuff of which magic is made", that is palpable. This isn't something your mind understands, but something you feel in your body and soul, and I know it moves me and helped to heal and prepare me for what is coming next. I am so grateful for that. 

Mahalo Nui Loa Hawai'i. I'll return to you. 

The Prodigal Citizen

From Bad Postcards via Debbi Pete

We are leaving Hawaii and moving to Minneapolis on October 1st. I have mixed feelings about this.

On the one hand, moving to Minnesota feels like horrible moose sweaters, hot dish, color schemes in navy blue, forest green and burgundy, fat people bundled into sweatpants, and frigid, unrelenting ice, wind and darkness.

On the other hand, it feels like falling leaves and crisp apple orchard air, cross country skiing across a perfectly still field of snow in blinding white light, peonies speckled with ants, rhubarb pie cooling on the windowsill, the wind on your face and in your hair as you zip across the surface of a lake in July and Katie's baby in my arms, her smooth, warm head nestled into my neck.

It seems sudden, but it isn't really. Eric and I have been discussing it theoretically for awhile. And if the circumstances around us have conspired suddenly to send us moving down this path sooner than we might have liked, there is comfort in knowing the signs are there.

With all the moving I've done, you'd think a move back to where I grew up would be the easiest one of all. Not the case. I'm terrified of this move, terrified of staying in Minneapolis forever. I'm frightened of being in such close proximity to our families, whom I love and bear in equal measures. I'm afraid of continuing to drift, drift, drift. I'm scared of feeling cooped up and conventional.

Living in exotic and far flung places has allowed me to manufacture glamour and hide behind it when things were difficult. I set out to live off the beaten track, but sometimes this feels strangely irresponsible, as if what I am really doing is avoiding life's necessarily dull and tedious moments.

When I think about all the places I've lived and what I've learned from each, I can see that no environment sank into my bones. I meant to investigate the native cultures and traditions of each region, but never sunk my teeth in. Was that because these places didn't really belong to me? Is the choice to go back to Minnesota now at last a chance to commit to something, to see it through in the face of unpleasant realities? Or have Eric and I run out of good ideas and this is all that is left?

In Hawaii, I began to learn openness. I began trying to put myself in alignment with the world, instead of trying to make the world suit me. I learned not to hurry. I learned to practice doing each task required of me with quality. I learned to get comfortable with ambiguity. I learned that I can only change myself. I wasted time. I began learning to accept and investigate my emotions instead of reacting to them.

In Minneapolis, I want to learn how to love wholeheartedly, without judgement. I'd like to know passion. I'd like to know rigor, energy, power. I want to learn how to control and direct my energies, instead of watching them dissipate into the ether and years.

In my thirtieth year, I'd like to trust myself, let go and grow up. Perhaps admitting that this can be done anywhere, even in my hometown, is a perfect start. 

A Toast To Fifteen Hundred Posts!

Mack Sennet Girls Posing in Serpentine Confetti from All Posters

Lest it slip by unmentioned, yesterday was my fifteen hundredth post. (One thousand was almost two years ago!) I've heard it said that taking up blogging to make money is like learning ventriloquism in order to meet girls.

It might not work.

Lucky for me, blogging holds intrinsic rewards. It's a way to catalog my inspirations and share my creativity. It keeps me thinking and making connections. In some ways this humble little blog is like Virginia Wolf's room in her famous essay "A Room of One's Own". It belongs entirely to me and in this one little corner I have the freedom to share whatever I like.

It's a place for me to practice everything- to test out new recipes, rant and rave about a wonderful or terrible film I've just seen, share a do it yourself project or consider how to embody my life more fully.

Along the way, my writing has improved, I've met wonderful people and I've built a room of my own. As I look around at it, I can see that it reflects what is best in me. There is whimsy and fun, but there is a search for meaning too. As I look at it, I can see the trajectory of my thinking and what moves me. It's thrilling. My little room has it's shortcomings, and yet it is something of which I am immensely proud.

Thank you for being part of what keeps me thinking, writing and sharing. It makes it so much more fun to share my room with you.

Love,

Becky

A Bucket List that's Already Been Done

A few weeks ago I received an email from Momma D. The subject line read "Bucket List". It included a list to check off and pass on to friends. It got me thinking that what makes a bucket list special are the specific details of an individual's experience.

Though you can plan a trip to the Grand Canyon, you can never plan the little things that will happen along the way that make the trip uniquely yours. The unexpected details make life's treasures. So I thought I'd make my personal Bucket List with a twist. Here are a few things I've already done that I never could have planned ahead of time. (Thank goodness!)

Dandelion Photo from Racey Tay

Becky's Been There Bucket List:


Learn how to knit, make one hideous scarf and give up. X

Take to the wide skies of New Mexico during the Balloon Fiesta. Watch the giant plumes of silk fabric billow and fluff with hot air against the perfectly crisp blue sky on an early October morning. Enjoy a champagne toast and practical joke as an uninitiated afterwards. X

Go to Rocky Horror Picture Show in black sequined hot pants. Don't let anyone know it's your first time. Sing along at the top of your lungs, even though you don't know any of the lyrics. X

Receive the perfect bottle of perfume as a gift. X

Sample Blood Sausage in the Austrian countryside in a vineyard dappled with softly fading daylight. Spread it on thick brown rye bread like pate. Sip on green wine from the vines surrounding you. Surprise yourself by liking it, despite the horror of your American cohorts. X

Hear a loon's eerie cry across a mirror smooth lake just as the sun rises. X

Fill your passport with stamps. X

Then get another and start again. X

Learn the harmony to the star spangled banner. Use it. X

Get gum in your hair. Let your mother slather butter on it and painstakingly comb it out. Thank her years later in a blog post. X

Go to the Louvre. Ignore the guidebooks. Look at only what interests you and leave when you are tired. X

Wander through a butterfly pavilion with little ones. Watch them marvel at tiny things which are exactly at their eye level. Scrunch down with them and look there too. X

Try poi. At least two bites. X

Never save champagne for a special occasion. X

Change the oil in your car yourself at least once. From then on, leave the hassle to the pros. X

Run a small business. X

Have a pedicure with a girlfriend every month or so. Catch up on gossip and trashy magazines. Get a bruise from the mean old massage chair and remember to leave it off next time. X

Attempt to make a preposterous French Dessert at home. Cheat a little. Serve with drama. X

Suck it in to get that vintage dress with the teeny tiny waist to zip. Don't stay in it too long and whatever you do, don't sit down. X

Walk along a grassy, windswept cliff with the ocean crashing on one side and a towering clifftop forest on the other. Stand beside your best friend as she pledges her life to a charming ginger headed hippie. Hear their vows to one another. See thier lives intertwining. Think about how love is the most difficult, refining fire in the world. Go ahead and cry. X

A Guiding Light (house carafe)

We have crash landed back in Hawaii and plunged head first into a sea of craigslist ads and dissapointing apartment showings. This little lighthouse carafe was featured in the giant stack of magazines (and SO much junk mail) that piled up while we were gone. It's inspired me to remember that I will be guided safely ashore and unpack all my nautical themed trinkets on dry land soon enough.

More vacation posts to follow. Thanks for coming along on my adventures.

What I like about Museums

You walk up the marble steps. You are leaving the plane of every day existence. You are climbing into a special realm that contains the infinite expressions of human potential. Your spirit will be enriched. What is good in you will feast.

You pass through the glass doors and a blast of cool air washes over you. It feels good after the dusty heat of the street in July. The bustle of the street is replaced by silent calm. It settles over you slowly, like a fine silt sinking to the bottom of a pond. You buy a ticket from a fellow all in black, right up to his square glasses. You take the ticket to a white haired man near a red velvet rope. He smiles at you as he tears your ticket.

As you walk through the grand hall, you hear the echo of your footsteps in the immense space. You notice how much museums borrow from cathedrals. Both are sacred spaces. We need space to let our spirits expand to their fullest capacity.

You climb up the vast marble staircase. You are alone on the steps, but the grooves worn in them speak of thousands of feet that have walked here before you. They whisper of footsteps yet to come.

You turn into the gallery. Polished parquet. Gold guilded frames. Benches covered in soft blue velvet. You are invited to be still. To be silent. To consider, without any words.

Just look. Just look. Just look.

When you have had enough, go back to the world.

Meeting Delaney!

We are in MN for a few days before we head back to Hawaii, and I've still got lots to share about Vienna, but I couldn't resist sharing this shot. We were so delighted to meet little Delaney at long last. Brent & Alison are very lucky folks to have such a cheerful, adorable little gal, don't you think?

Auf Wiedersehen B.I.G!

And we're off! I hope you'll follow along on our adventures this summer. We'll be making stops in Boson, Copenhagen, Naples, Rome and Vienna and anywhere else that strikes our fancy. I'll do my best to be a dutiful blogger so you can enjoy our trip right from your computer! See you soon.

xo-

Madame B

LAST CALL for Summer Brides!

Hello Baby Bride & Groom Vintage Wedding Cake Topper

Last day to place orders from the shop before I close up and head to Vienna for the summer! (Never fear, I'll reopen in August.) Happy Wedding Season darlings!

P.S I've packed up almost every room in the house, save my studio and bedroom. It's looking quite bare in here!

On Moving and Manifesting

Blythe Chair from Anthropologie

I've begun packing up our house and yesterday morning we began another househunt. Just ten days left and I'm feeling shockingly relaxed about this move, mostly because it doesn't involve getting our things across an ocean. I don't have to get rid of anything I don't want to, I can just calmly pack it up and take it to the next place.

What is interesting is that after all these years of living together, I still marvel at my husband every time we do this. My mind is constantly altering things to make it into the thing I really want. (Could I paint that wall? Bring in different knobs for the cupboards?)But his mind is able to wait calmly for the thing that is perfect just as it is. He has this ability to center himself and have faith that the picture in his mind will become real. It is a marvelous thing to watch and I notice it most of all when we are looking for houses.

Yesterday, we drove out into coffee country and down the winding mountain to an idyllic spot where all you could hear were the rustling of palm leaves. There was a tennis court on the property and an old restored Model T with a pack of wild chickens pecking about on the gravel drive. The house itself was a charming little jewel box of a place, tiny, but adorable.

I began mentally moving in immediately. It wasn't perfect. The kitchen was dark and cramped and the living room was a tiny slash next to it. I ignored this and began putting dishes away and stocking the pantry in my head.

But Eric turned to me and quietly said, "It's not quite right. I can't picture us here." And he was right. I could move in, but not imagine a life there. I aspire to learn to manifest my imagination the way that he does, and another move seems like a good way to practice.

What are you like during a househunt? Is it fun for you, stressful or both? It's sort of like trying on a life, isn't it?

What I know for Sure: I'm Going to Miss Oprah Winfrey

Image via m.oprah.com

There are only 13 Oprah shows left. 12 by the time many of you read this. I had to write to her, just once. Here's what I wanted her to know:

Dear Oprah (& the wonderful Harpo staff member who will read this note),

I wonder how many letters have begun that way in the last 25 years? I am adding mine to that enormous pile even though I know you may never read this, because I want to put my thoughts down so I can understand them better. I have been getting positively weepy all through The Farewell Season, but especially during clips that look back on your extraordinary life in television. Watching you high five viewers, welcome guests, tear up, and wave your arms in the classic "Aha moment" brings tears to my eyes every time. I love seeing your evolving hair styles and wardrobe choices over 25 years, not to mention those of your guests!

But when I try to think more deeply about why your show means so much to me and my life I find myself choked with emotion. It's hard to describe. I remember an episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon answers "What is your religious affiliation?" with "I basically do whatever Oprah tells me to." It may have been tongue in cheek, but it wouldn't be funny if it weren't also true. Your show holds a unique place in my spiritual development and my understanding of the world as a place full of wonder, mystery, humanity and bounty.

I think the dailiness of The Oprah Show has contributed to my feeling of you as someone I know, trust, and love. You appear in my living room five days a week (and my mailbox once a month!) to share something with me- a story, an idea, a cool new gizmo. But if it were only that, I would have stopped watching long ago.

What you offer me is the tremendous gift of your authentic self. This is no small thing in our phony, schmaltzy, celebrity-obsessed culture. I know you couldn't have given me that and accomplished all you have without also being "full of yourself" in the most beautiful sense.

Watching you become more and more completely yourself over the years has made me believe the same thing is possible for me and my life. I am still learning how to live better day by day. Watching you get better with each year shows me that life is a journey that keeps unfolding until the last breath. I will never pout about a birthday because I know each year comes with the blessing of wisdom, more than a fair trade for wrinkles and grey hair.

Congratulations on 25 years. Thank you so much for the lessons you will continue to teach me.

Devotedly,

Becky

I'll be hosting a Last Oprah Episode viewing party on May 25th. If you're in the Kailua Kona area, and would like to join, please send me a message.

Taste Test: Miracle Fruit turns Sour to Sweet!

Have you heard of Miracle Fruit? It's a tiny berry that alters your taste perception of sour and salty foods, emphasizing their sweetness instead. (One fellow hosts "flavor tripping" parties where guests can sample lemons, vinegars, mustards and dark, bitter beers!) In Eric's ongoing quest to sample all the tropical fruits of The Big Island, we gave them a whirl while my Mum was visiting. We bought five berries for $1 at our local farmer's market. (It felt like we had stepped into the fairy tale about Jack and his magic beans!)

They look quite ordinary, don't they?

We tasted the limes before, to refresh our memories of what

SOUR tastes like!

Then we tried the Miracle Fruit. You pop the tiny berry into your mouth and separate the flesh of the fruit from the seed. You swirl the flesh around your mouth and discard the seed. After a few minutes, your sense of taste is altered. The perception lasts for about 30-45 minutes.

What a fun experiment! It's not that the sour disappears, it's more as though the food's natural sweetness is heightened and emphasized. Eric thought this would make an excellent lesson on perception for his high school students. He used his Miracle Fruit to drink a glass of apple cider vinegar (an old fashioned home remedy that is supposed to work as an appetite suppressant.) You could still taste the sourness of the vinegar, but the sweetness was the first thing that hit your tongue.

Have you tried anything NEW lately?

Quirky Easter Decor via Ukraine, Etsy & Ebay!

For my Easter decor this year, I decided pastels were passé. Instead, I snapped up an instant collection of vintage wooden Ukrainian eggs on Etsy and Ebay. I love the rich, saturated color palette- especially the black with pops of bold cobalt, fuchsia and red. I also nabbed a selection of funny hand painted egg cup people. (I do love anything figural for my tabletop!) I think they look quite funny in their little caps- like little Popes or the Queen's Guard. I've also filled the whole house with lilies thanks to a flower arranging class at Donkey Mill Art Center. (More on that soon!) Do you decorate for Easter? What's your favorite tradition?

Bed In for Fun!

A few weeks back E and I decided to pull out the sleeper sofa and have a Bed In, just like John & Oko. We spent the whole day in our pajamas, loafing on the computer, drinking champagne, reading magazines, and fiddling around on the guitar and being incredibly lazy. It was wonderful. Isn't it funny how doing one tiny thing out of the ordinary makes a day suddenly quite special? I can't wait for the next one. How did you spend your weekend?

Eric's Birthday Dinner

For E's Birthday this year, I prepared a Nelson Family classic: Sauerkraut & Dumplings. This recipe was Diane's Mom's. By all accounts, she was an amazing cook, and every time I make this dish I feel like I am paying her a little tribute. Though I never got to meet her, I've been able to taste her cooking. That is the marvelous power of food.

The secret to the sauerkraut is to cook it with a seared pork loin so that it gets tender and begins to caramelize slightly. The pork roasts for hours in those vinegary juices until it is moist and falling apart. The bread dumplings are made with bread cubes, egg, milk and flour and then boiled till slightly puffed and chewy.

Birthday boy digs in!

His birthday cake? German chocolate of course. I used a mix for the cake, but did the frosting myself. It was SO much better than the vile stuff that comes in a can- without that chemical aftertaste! I always tease him about how his entire Birthday dinner is a variety of beige. Comfort food is wonderful stuff, don't you agree? What is your favorite family recipe?

Banishing the Blues: Five things I'm Digging Right this Second

As you may have guessed by the slow posting (and the melancholy tone of late!) I've got a little case of the blues. Nothing serious- it happens from time to time to us all, but I thought I'd write down five things I'm grateful for to banish them:

1) Thanks to our exciting news, I'm doing lots of daydreaming about cycling around Italy wearing a silk scarf and these shades. (Do you think they might mistake me for a local?)

2) A visit from my lovely Mum! She's the easiest house guest ever- perfectly content to sit in my sunny backyard, chit chat with me, cook up lovely nibbles and stick her toes in the sand.

3) I've been watching Jamie At Home thanks to my tivo and am crazy, madly in love with him. Everything about it is wonderful- his relaxed, confident style, the gorgeous ingredients, the extreme close ups of that gorgeous food moving and gooshing around on the plate, looking so alive and succulent, his slight and adorable lisp, his hobbit hole of a kitchen with bundles of herbs hanging from the earthen walls and mismatched crockery- even his preposterous hair- I love it all. I can't wait to try a few of his recipes.

4) I've just had an order for 20 Dachshund Party Dogs for a birthday bash in a few months. Doesn't that sound like a fun celebration?

5) I'm loving the instant collection of wooden Ukranian Easter Eggs I scored on Ebay. Their electric color palate pops against their shiny black shells and looks both traditional and radical at once. No pastels in sight!

Wanna play? What are you feeling gratitude for right this second?

The Journey Continues: Summer in Austria!

Hello My Dears-

We have news! Eric has won a National Endowment for the Humanities grant to study Mozart in Vienna, Austria this summer! We are busy making preparations and trying to decide how this trip will fit into our plans. We are hoping to make stops in Italy and England as well.

He applied for two grants but this one is feeling more and more like a match made in heaven. Eric spent a year living in Frieburg Germany in college, and has some (rusty!) German language skills. This program ends just before the Hawaiian school year starts up again (in late July, quite soon really!) And he is constantly tinkering around on various instruments around the house- over the years he's learned to play songs on the accordion, guitar, ukulele and piano.

And for the perfect cherry on top, our local Kona Music Society is celebrating Mozart with a special screening of the excellent film Amadeus this weekend and a performance of Requiem in May. Is that a sign or what?

I am so proud of my husband's ability to seek out and capture opportunities for growth. I have to confess, at times I feel anxious about what will happen next and can't see how it will all come together. I am learning to worry less by staying present in the moment, but I still feel doubt sometimes. He is steadfast in his faith in himself and continues to teach me what it means to have confidence in the journey. Congratulations my love and thank you for sharing this crazy adventure with me.

Triangulation

My two best friends came for a visit last week. I've known them for thirteen years, ever since I was sixteen. What is it old friends know about you that other people never could?

When I think of the three of us in high school, I think of Sarah's LeBaron Convertible (which we dubbed "Cher" after a face lift in which she went from navy blue to cherry red) show tunes blaring, our hair tangling in the wind, singing at the top of our lungs. Crying our eyes out after watching Reality Bites for the first of a thousand times. Sharing our (probably terrible) teen angst filled poetry. Watching Katie playing her guitar through the crowd and being in on the secret meanings of her songs. The giddy rebelliousness we felt as we ripped our clothes off on the shore of Medicine lake in the middle of the night and plunged into the black, weedy depths.

Of course, our lives took us in different directions. We've all followed winding paths to adulthood- Sarah's took her from Wisconsin to Alaska to Oregon, adding a big white dog, a ginger headed husband and matching wild woman toddler, a beautiful house and a nursing career along the way.

Katie became a mother to a very lady like little girl in glasses. She still pursues her love of music, playing shows around Minneapolis, touring and recording whenever she gets the chance. She works for the college she graduated from, helping other young musicians pursue their dreams and traveling all over the country. She's met a wonderful man who is a great father to Lou and yin to her yang.

Our lives have taken us far from each other and sometimes it's a few months between phone calls. But we come together for the big moments, and every now and then, manage a trip together. What surprises me every time is that being together is never easy.

You would think that after so much water under the bridge and such a rich knowledge of each other, our visits would be awash in nostalgia and reminiscences. But, what makes our relationship so charged with magic is that I can feel them shaping me even as we sit poolside sipping mai tais. Of course, we always have fun. But, there is always an element of discomfort- the kind of pain that growth requires.

As I watched them with their families this past week- busy being moms and wives, I was also struck by how happy they are, how much themselves. For some reason, it felt quite lonely to me. It brought me back to my own winding path and how far it has diverged from the expected, the usual. I felt a bit lost. All the things that make a typical life are missing from my own. No career, no home, no kids. I thought again about how diverging from life's usual trajectory leads you to uncharted territory. You have nothing to rely on or plan around but yourself and your own internal compass. When you add in children, a home, a nine to five job, there are things that follow logically. One thing necessitates other things. The freedom and flexibility of my life also comes with a cost- it comes at the expense of certainty.

Then I found myself thinking about triangulation. When distances are too difficult to measure physically, you can find the other two fixed points in the triangle and find their angles to ascertain the third location. That triangle might span miles or inches. And you can use the information for navigation.

My friends have lives very different from my own. Welcoming them into our home was a joy, and a huge departure from our usual routine. Our normally quiet, tidy house was turned into a wild, messy, joyful base of operations. I didn't get to share my day to day life with my friends, perhaps because it is unsharable. By it's very nature, it is solitary, quiet, meditative, slow.

I felt myself looking in on their world as parents- the love they feel for their children is so palpable, so real. Yet it is something I just don't comprehend, because it is incomprehensible to someone who hasn't done it. The only person I love with that crazy, wild, unabashed, bottomless love is my husband.

But we don't need identical lives to share this bond of adopted sisterhood. In fact, it's better as it is, with each point in the triangle distinct, unique and telling each member exactly where she is.