Day 27: January 31, 2009

Tonight we went to a movie at Plimoth Plantation. No, you did not read that wrong: A movie at Plimoth Plantation. On weekends (and some weekday evenings, depending on the season), the plantation transforms one of its visitor center auditoriums into an art house movie theater.

This sign is just the beginning. In the concession area, which you can glimpse at the back of this photo, cheerful volunteers sell popcorn, candy and, tonight at least, authentic-recipe Indian pudding with scoops of vanilla ice cream, a steal (and delicious) at $3 for a hearty bowl. At a table out of view to the left, another woman sold beer and wine.

Hollywood East

“But what about the movie?” you may rightfully ask.

We saw Rachel Getting Married, and I was emotionally eviscerated. A few times during the course of the movie, I seriously thought I might have to leave the theater so that when I burst out into loud, gasping sobs I would not disturb the other patrons. That is not to say I did not enjoy it; it was a fantastic movie and I highly recommend it. Just bring some extra tissues.

Day 26: January 30, 2009

This evening Pat and I drove up to Braintree and had dinner with his brother, Matt. When we returned to Matt’s house, as we stood about in the kitchen, his dog Cody placed a possessive paw on his foot, a gesture he said she makes every time she returns home. It is, we theorized, her way of suggesting that he not leave again any time soon.

Cody Good

Day 25: January 29, 2009

When I was little, the Sagamore Bridge was a magical structure. Spanning the canal, it was the clear dividing line between the land of Home and School, and the kingdom of Fun and Vacation. These days, I barely notice the bridge; many days, I get so absorbed in my thoughts as I drive that I find myself, for a moment, unsure whether I am on the Cape or the mainland.

This morning though, as I headed to work a little late, I was struck by the way the the sunlight hit the metal and the way that the structure formed an irregular grid against the cloudless blue sky.

Halfway to work

Day 24: January 28, 2009

I went in to work today on a standard snowy New England morning. I came out of work into a suprising eerie fogscape. Curse New England weather all you will, but the sudden changes it makes often create some intriguing and awe-inspiring effects.

The fog

Day 23: January 27, 2009

Some days (such as, oh say, today), when work is seeming particularly tedious, I enjoy contemplating the large map of the world that is pinned to the newsroom wall. To those familiar with my geographic obsession, it should come as no surprise that my eyes most often wander to the tiny Himalayan nation of Bhutan.

Land of the Thunder Dragon

Why, then, do I find Bhutan so compelling? I am fascinated by the government’s devotion to measuring its country’s success on the basis of Gross National Happiness rather than by economic measures. But, at the same time, I am a little horrified by the government’s attempts to achieve harmony by enforcing ethnic standards for citizenship. And then there’s it’s breathtaking natural beauty.

Alas, in an effort to maintain the country’s idyllic nature, the government enforces a strict cap on the number of tourists who can enter each year and only allows in visitors who have bought travel packages at certain per-day minimum prices. So, unless I can convince Pat to apply for a golf job there, I am unlikely to get to Bhutan any time soon.

Day 22: January 26, 2009

I am 31, and that’s plenty old to have friends with babies, I suppose. But my friend Brooke’s son Riley just had his first birthday and I am still not totally acclimated to the fact that she is a mother. He, however, seems totally adjusted to it, and fairly adoring to boot.

Brooke and Riley

Day 21: January 25, 2009

Today was my day to do my best Martha impersonation: I made homemade soup for lunch, cookie dough, apple sauce, dinner and, of course, muffins.

I like baking muffins. I like baking (and cooking) all sorts of things, but there is something especially pleasing about muffins. Cakes and cookies are special occasion foods, but muffins are an everyday sort of thing and therefore have a warm and homey feeling to them. Plus, I remember, as a little girl, making plain muffins with my mother whenever we had beef stew for dinner.

“What the heck,” you might ask, “is a plain muffin?” They are muffins the way muffins should be: A little confection, only ever-so-slightly sweet, easy to whip up and of a totally reasonable size. It is not these cupcake-wannabe monstrosities sold at every coffee shop. The particular beauty of the plain muffin is that you can tart it up however you like; today I went with blueberries, cinnamon and a sprinkling of sugar on top.

Blueberry muffins

Day 20: January 24, 2009

A word of advice: If you intend to see a movie at the Coolidge Corner Theatre, buy the tickets in advance. Do not, as Pat and I did this evening, linger over your delicious Vietnamese food and arrive at the box office a half hour early, only to discover that the 7:20 show of Man on Wire is sold out.

The not-so-big screen

On the plus side, however, we finally got to watch Son of Rambow (albeit on our modestly sized home television), which we can now finally return to Netflix.

Day 19: January 23, 2009

On Facebook today, my friend Matty (Matthew now, perhaps, though I imagine I will not shake the habit if using his high school nickname) posted an album of photos that mostly consisted of close-ups of surfaces, most of which are worn and scarred. The images appealed to me and got me thinking, so I went out and took a few of my own: The splintering wooden shelf outside the back door of the office, the peeling blue paint on the door of the abandoned building across the street from work, and this one, the standard green pole holding up a standard traffic sign near the Cape Cod Times parking lot.

Vertical

I don’t know why Matty took these kind of photos–what they mean or day to him. But for me, they are interesting embodiments of the way weather and experience take their toll on the physical world, tiny intricate artifacts of the passage of time.

Day 18: January 22, 2009

I hardly ever get to leave work before sunset these days. Today I did. Sure there are better sunset pictures out there in the world, but this was my out-of-work-early-driving-to-Westwood-to-tutor sunset, and that’s good enough.

Plymouth has more colors at sunset than my sock drawer ever dreamed of

Sleepiness makes me less verbose.

Bonus points to anyone who understands what that caption is all about.