be here now

My tea party yesterday was delightful: the best of friends, delicious treats, and one mesmerizing baby! My friend H is an amazing mother, and little S is about the sweetest baby I've known. I can't wait until she can join in the fun by eating the treats too. For now, her palate is limitied to Similac.

H, S, and I enjoyed Sweet Potato Biscuits, Pimento Cheese ('menna cheese) on thinly sliced Zingy's baguette rounds, grape tomatoes and carrot sticks with parsley and mint, cucumber sandwiches, and a classic sponge cake with strawberries and vanilla whipped cream. My tea party fare this time around had a pronounced Southern flair...

And this morning I think of sweet Auburn, Alabama with the greatest affection. I remember my charming home there, with its 10 large windows, screened in porch, and lovely hardwood floors. I think of the smell of sandalwood incense filtering through the rooms, the focused brain power as I stumbled my way through my dissertation. I romanticize the place and the time, and wish for a moment or two that I could go back, just for a day or two, for one of those fun grad school parties, or a meeting of the Jane Austen Reading Group (which inevitably devolved into conversations of men, fashion, and gossip. I think Jane would approve). But I'm not the same, I'm sure my former home isn't the same, and I know my friends have changed--and moved on too. And I try to remember the truth behind the new-agey statement to BE HERE NOW, as these days will likewise fade into memory, and I'll be waxing poetic about these few rooms, with fewer windows, but quiet, tree-filled views..from my new vantage point, wherever that may be.

Last night I joined friends at J and A's house for a soiree, meeting new people and enjoying the first glass of Rose of the season and fresh conversation.

Today I've been cleaning my home, trying to keep the endless pieces of paper from taking over every room, especially on the eve of reaserch paper submission day. Ugh.

Now it's time to head out into the 75 degree sunshine and revel in the gentle breezes and sun rays gathering intensity, while ignoring the persistant pollen that's beginning to cling to cars, sidewalks, and my clothes.