hobbies – Chronicles of a Homebody Adventurer

2022, Crafting!

Quilting: Finding My Crafty

March 4, 2022March 8, 2022 Charlotte

The Need to Craft

In 2015, I went through my lowest mental moment.

It had been a rough year in grad school: qualifying exams, first major research trip, first fellowship cycle, and dissertation proposal all just spiraled together to create a total existential storm in my brain.

After putting a lot of work into my mental health, I entered 2016 in a much better place, but I knew I needed to do something. Something that wasn’t related to graduate school. Something that was both productive and satisfying and that didn’t bear the weight of my personal hopes and expectations.

I needed a hobby.

I fretted about what to do for a while. Reading, which had always been my go-to escape, was no longer filling that void, since so much of my time was otherwise occupied with words, both consuming and producing. Sitting down to read fiction, even the really craptastic kind, just didn’t inspire the desired and expected effect. Reading was at once too active and too passive an activity to fill this need. TV and podcasts were too passive. Too. Passive. I needed to move my hands, do something productive. Maybe I needed to make something.

In college, I very much enjoyed crafting. One of my favorite things to do was to make crafts and goodies for people in my sorority. My favorite of these craftivities was making letter shirts. This process involved finding cute fabrics, tracing the letters, cutting them out, ironing the letters onto t-shirts, and then puffy-painting or sewing the letters on the t-shirt.

Shirts I made for one of my BFF’s wedding parties.

My sister with one of the sorority shirts I made her in 2014.

An assortment of sorority crafts I made for one of my littles.

But in grad school, my need for sorority puffy letter shirts, or handmade t-shirts of any kind, was at an all-time low.

So I stalled.

I tried adult coloring books. For a time that filled that need, to a point. Coloring was really good for shutting the brain down, when I needed quiet. But it didn’t satisfy my need to create.

I tried knitting. It seemed to have a pretty steep learning curve–so many different stitches and it takes a while to see a result–and the results at first are, sorry to say, rather boring. And limited to a rather circumscribed group of crafts. Yarn also just didn’t do it for me. It didn’t fill me with joy.

My loot from a shopping trip to my favorite quilting store of all time Unraveled Quilt Store

Then, I remembered that fabric acquisition was by far one of my favorite steps of crafting in college. What could I do with a whole mess of fabric? What could I do that would permit me to acquire MORE fabric?

It hit me suddenly and all at once: I would make a quilt.

Did I have a sewing machine or any previous sewing experience?

NOPE.

Did that deter me?

DOUBLE NOPE.

Choose my own adventure quilting

I remember looking up a wikiHow on “how to put together a quilt,” just to get the basic gist. I needed to make a quilt top, a quilt bottom, and get a layer of batting (the fluffy stuff that goes in between the quilting cotton to make the quilt warm), sandwich them together, and then bind the edges. In classic me fashion, I immediately decided to go to Joann’s and get some fabric and to make a quilt that I would hand sew in its entirety.

Nuts, right?

I had no idea what I needed. I was probably like a contestant from Supermarket Sweep in the Joanns. I came home with a ridiculous amount of fabric, some thread, batting, fabric scissors, some needles, a self-healing mat, and a rotary cutter.

Since I was doing it by hand, I wasn’t super invested in making a fancily pieced quilt, a simple patchwork would do. I didn’t want to follow a pattern, because I typically don’t like, and am not always good at, following directions (this says something about me, I think, and I can’t tell if it’s good or bad).

Ultimately though, my choice to not use a pattern was because I wanted to test my creative juices, and not just follow someone’s instructions, and risk it becoming a frustrating exercise when it did not turn out exactly as imagined or if I found the instructions wanting. That would be the exact opposite effect of what I was going for. Hobbies should be fun and enjoyable and rewarding.

So I cut all of my fabric into 4 in. by 4 in. squares. All of it, every fabric that I bought, regardless if I thought it was going to go in the quilt. (This was a mistake, I still have a bunch of fabric that is essentially useless unless it needs to be a 4×4 square or smaller.) I loved figuring out how to balance the colors and patterns worked with one another. It felt like a puzzle and I was hooked.

This was the pic I shared to instagram. I remember loving the way the seams looked when I posted this pic and was shocked and horrified to find I needed to press them. But alas, I really did.

I slowly sewed the rows together, by hand, learning as I go, my stitches becoming progressively neater as I pieced the quilt. I shared on Instagram that I was making a quilt and learned I needed to press my seams from a friend, something I wouldn’t have thought of doing on my own. As I sewed, I learned.

Every time I make a quilt now, I feel like I spend more and more time pressing my seams and I always think about young-quilter me who didn’t even know it was a thing I should do.

It was exactly what I needed as a craft at that time. It let me make something, my brain resetting as I sewed, watching the rows come together, the rows becoming the quilt top. I was thrilled with the result of the quilt top–I thought it was so pretty and I was afraid that I would ruin it in the next steps.

I basted the three layers together, the backing, the batting, and then the top. It was time to quilt. Now, this is a controversial opinion, but I don’t think you can say you quilt unless you actually do the quilting, the sewing of the layers together. These days a lot of people sew their quilt tops, then send it to a longarmer to finish. Those are piecers, not quilters. (I kid, I kid.)

I didn’t fully appreciate the quilting process until several quilts later. For my first quilt, I used the same thread that I used for the piecing to do the quilting. For my second quilt, I decided to use colored bold hand-quilting thread. Eventually, the quilting became my favorite part. It wasn’t until my fifth and sixth quilts that I realized how I liked to do hand quilting…with embroidery floss. I like a nice bold line, and there’s so much fun to be had adding this detail.

Space themed quilt with multicolored thread. (2019)

After finishing the quilting, it’s time to do the binding. Now, the binding is definitely the area where my hesitancy to look up how to do things and follow instructions worked to my disadvantage. I did my best to figure it out, but the way my brain “solved” the problem was not the best way to bind the quilt. I don’t think I properly learned how to do the binding until like the last 3 or 4 quilts or projects. I made it a lot harder for myself. I don’t mind how my early quilts’ binding turned out from a stylistic pov, but damn–it’s a lot easier now that I know how to do it for real.

Super thick binding on my first quilt done by a way that made sense to me.

The first time I did the binding the correct way. It’s so much simpler and cleaner.

The Result: A Quilter for Life

My first quilt really does represent a lot about my personal style, even if it’s not how I would do it today.

It’s primarily pink, white, and grey, one of my favorite color combos. (It reminds me of my cat, Livia, too.) It is floral and doesn’t shy away from patterns. Some of the prints are watercolor, another typical favorite of mine. It has a textured white-on-white fabric, another Charlotte-standard. Lastly, one of the prints has what I like to call the bougie-Paris aesthetic; watercolor, flowers, and antique postal text, that says Paris.

The green in the fabrics even matches her eyes. 😍

I’m a sucker for anything French, Paris, or evocative of things that make me think of France in springtime. Were I to do it over again, the binding would not be this old school Charlotte style of binding, but the correct way. I also would totally have a crap-ton of colored embroidery all up in that bitch.

It, like all my quilts, is imperfect. Regardless if a quilt has misaligned seams or uneven stitches, or even in some cases a messed up pattern, it is still beautiful and whole. I had a grad school mantra “perfection is the enemy of the good” and I never really believed it until I began quilting. I love and cherish (most) mistakes on my final quilts. Quilting helped me focus my energies–both positive and negative–into a productive and enjoyable pursuit.

I didn’t know it when I finished this quilt, but this hobby would save me and my mental health time and time again. A few months after I completed it, my mom died. I had started a quilt for my sister before mom died, and it is with that quilt, and the quilt for my other sibling, that I focused my grief for my mom and the family that we had been before. These quilts were a work of love for my siblings, and for my mom. Into each quilt I am able to put into concrete form the love I have for the person it is meant for.* However, it also reminds me of the love and confidence I should have for myself. The quilts that I have made, imperfect though they are, remind me of what I am capable of doing while making something beautiful for those that mean the most to me.

*(FYI: if I’ve made you or your kid a quilt or a craft, there’s a good chance you’re in my top tier of important and loved people. If I haven’t made you a quilt/craft yet and you think you’re in my top tier, calm down, these bitches take time.)

To date, I’ve made 9 quilts with several more in progress. For my own fun, I’ve put together a catalog of sorts of my quilting projects with pix and eventually commentary.

craft catalog

2021, Friend Prompts, Travel, Uncategorized

Paris for a Layover: A (Cliched?) Homage to my Favorite City

December 17, 2021December 18, 2021 Charlotte

My friend Erin issued me this challenge: You are in Paris for a 24 hour layover. What do you do?

I am not sure a more difficult challenge could be issued to me, and I only mean that a little bombastically. Paris is one of my favorite places on earth. I know it well–it’s definitely the place outside of the USA where I’ve spent the most time. On the other hand, it never ceases to surprise me, it is never the same, but is always familiar. I know it’s cliche to be that bougie American bitch who loves Paris, but I like to think that my relationship with the city is not a superficial one.

January 2004: Look at little baby Charlotte standing in front of Les Invalides.

There are so many different ways that I could pass a day in Paris. It could be a nostalgia walk—in areas that remind me of people and times that I love and cherish. It could be a museum day, where I visit some of my favorite museums, the ones that led me to my love of art and history. It could be an architecture walk, visiting some of the best Paris has to offer. It could be a food tour—hitting up some of my best and favorite places to grab some French treats. Honestly, it really has to be all of the above.

Let’s set the stage. I am off on a trip and I have a layover at CDG, where I have enough time to go into the city for the day. I’m going to pretend that customs and security lines don’t last forever. I’ll arrive in the city proper at 9 AM and my flight leaves at midnight, so I’ll need to RER to the airport at like…9 PM. TWELVE hours in Paris. I am able to leave my stuff in the airport so no chucking around luggage (phew). I am imagining that this day is in the springtime, still chilly, but comfortable.

Mission 1: Prend un café crème et un chausson aux pommes.

I will probably, owing to habit, take the RER to the Luxembourg station, disembarking there and finding a place near the Luxembourg gardens to eat my breakfast. For that breakfast, I will consume a cafe creme and a pastry, probably one of my favorites, the chausson aux pommes. Yes, I will be hungry in less than an hour, but this is my French petit-dejeuner of champions. A cafe crème is similar to a cappuccino or a cafe au lait, but with a little bit less milk. I might go back and forth between a cafe crème and a noisette (a macchiato)—or heck, go for both.

This is a chausson aux pommes, my friends. Drool.

But the real treat will be the pastry. If you google “chausson aux pommes” you will see english results that call it a “French apple turnover” with pictures of triangular pastries. I feel like this is a description that loses something in translation. There is no triangular shape, but a semi-circular pastry with scalloped edges that show off the intensely laminated layers to perfection. On chaussons, there is no crunchy sugar topping, or even worse, some kind of icing drizzle. Filled with an apple compote, the texture of the chausson aux pommes is ridiculously delicious in its simplicity.

I will eat my petit dej, while enjoying the sounds of a city coming alive. I love Paris to such a degree that even just existing within its arrondissements makes me a happy girl. It has its own smell (there’s one stretch of metro that you could take me to blindfolded and I could tell you where we are immediately) and its own feeling and I love it so, even when it’s mildly (or egregiously) disgusting.

At that cafe, preferably in outdoor seating, I’d spend about 45 minutes to an hour sipping my cafe creme and eating my chausson and reading some kind of trashy novel–likely ordering une noisette after I finished my cafe creme. At the 45 minute mark, I know I’d be hesitant to get going, but simultaneously anxious to do so. Getting up, I’d do a little stretch and leave the little bit of comfort that the table and this spot provided. It was mine for breakfast, and I’ll leave it to someone else to enjoy.

Mission 2: Morning Walk through the center of touristy Paris

Me and some of mes amies de Paris in 2005 in front of the Pantheon.

Given my choice to breakfast near Luxembourg Gardens, I’ve set myself up for an exemplary walkabout in some of my favorite areas of Paris. This walkabout is NOT for the weary. I’d walk my way up the Rue Sufflot and say hello to the Pantheon and St. Etienne. I’d maybe walk toward Rue Mouffetard and Place de la Contrescarpe, reveling in memories of my misspent youth. That sounds poetic doesn’t it? It really wasn’t that misspent, but I did traipse about with a backpack full of cheap wine, beer, and liege waffles for nights of youthful exuberant fun with mes amis de Paris.

Then, I’d wind my way back to the Rue Saint Michel and the Seine. I have oddly affectionate memories of Place St. Michel. At this intersection, there are several French bookstores that I might wind my way through for a hot second maybe picking up some postcards and bric a brac. I’d turn my sights toward the Seine and move toward Ile de la Cité and Notre Dame de Paris. I haven’t seen the cathedral since it caught on fire in 2019, so I’m sure I’d spent some time inspecting the structure to the degree that I am able. After finishing up with NDdP, I would think about going to see Ste. Chapelle, but then remember that it costs something absurd like 10 euro to go in and tell myself I’d go the next time I’m in town. I’d hie over to the Rive Doite and take in the Hotel de Ville. From there I would likely decide do I head east toward the Marais? Or west toward the Louvre?

Holding tight to the touristy center ce matin!

I think heading west would win out. I’d walk along the Seine until I get to the westernmost bit of the Louvre. I’d go and check on my Napoleonic arches. La Grande Arche only from a distance; it’s too far out to really pay attention to today, but I can at least see it down that fine Hausmannian road. Nevertheless I’d pay attention to the Arc du Carrousel for many minutes and enjoying one of my favorite prospects, les Jardin des Tuileries. I’d cut back over the Seine, and keep walking. This walk would allow me to glimpse sights of some of my favorite Parisian buildings, most of them stereotypical touristy items like the Tour Eiffel, the Musee D’Orsay, the Academie Francaise. I’d conclude at the Tuileries. I’d hop on the Metro, ligne 1, en direction de Porte de Vincennes. I’d disembark in the Marais at the station St. Paul.

Mission 3: Lunch at L’As du Falafel OU un sandwich jambon beurre

Unsurprisingly, my chausson aux pommes would have long since left my memory during this jaunt around Paris. After getting off the metro at St. Paul, I’d head toward L’As du Falafel to get some of my favorite food to eat in Paris, the sandwich grecque, done, or falafel, whatever you want to call it. There are so many of these little shops and restaurants in Paris that sell the delicious doner kebab and its variants that to me, it’s one of the most dependable foods that I can always rely on to be cheap, fast, and filling when I’m traveling in Europe. It’s never led me astray and always satisfied me. This place, however, is *good*. It’s in the Marais, a neighborhood that is traditionally Jewish and still has a very strong Jewish presence (this is where you would go in Paris to find a bagel!). Given this fact, it is one of the only restaurants open on Saturdays in the area and is often overwhelmed with customers. Still, I’ve never seen it without a line. This day, since it’s my perfect day, is not going to be a Saturday. I will order a sandwich with frites, and literally shove it in my face with glee.

As tempting as this food will be, there is a good chance that hunger might drive me to seek sustenance elsewhere if faced with a substantial line at L’As du Falafel. In that case, I’d seek out the simplest and best of the French repasts, the sandwich jambon beurre. The smooth, rich saltiness of the French butter on that crunch, bien cuite, fresh baguette with the not-as-salty-as-in-the-US ham is just one of my favorite, favorite sandwiches that I cannot replicate aux Etats Unis, as much as I might (and I have) tried. My disappointment at not finding a smaller line at L’As du Falafel will not last long.

Whatever my lunch choice, I am also confident I would acquire a Fanta au citron and guzzle it down. I would be in a state of complete and utter happiness and exhaustion, but fortified to move on to the next mission.

Mission 4: Macarons from Pierre Hermé

Ah, the macaron. The crisp meringue cookies sandwich delightfully flavored buttercream. Rich and indulgent, these are among some of my favorite French sweets. Not too far from L’As du Falafel is one of the best establishments to get macarons, Pierre Hermé. No, not Hermès. Ladurée is great in a pinch (and available in the US, though only in NYC, DC, Florida, and California).* I’d hustle over there and pick up a box of these confections and eat them throughout the rest of the day.

Per usual, I’d choose my favorite parfums: vanille, café, pistache, and framboise (raspberry), and perhaps I’d try some more adventurous flavors. After getting my loot, I’d choose one to eat, and pocket the rest in my bag to be enjoyed later.

_{* There is also a Pierre Hermé in the US, but only one in Saks 5th Ave in NYC.}

Mission 5: Une musée!

This is a hard decision to make. I must go to a museum while I was in Paris. As much as I would long to go visit the oodles and oodles of Roman statuary at the Louvre or the architectural awesomeness of the Musee D’Orsay, that’s just too much. For this single day of awesome, these museums take up too much time and energy. So I’d likely choose between a few of my favorites, which are all smaller, but stellar, museums.

Spiral staircase at the musee gustave moreau — The spiral staircase at the Musee Gustav Moreau; Nico Paix, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Musee Marmottan Monet: Massive collection of Monet including one of the most famous Impression, soleil levant, as well as other works that date from the medieval to the modern eras.
Musee Gustave Moreau: Not going to lie, this is one of my favs but not for the collections, which are exceptional. The former home of Symbolist painter Gustave Moreau, this museum preserves his home and workshops which he left to the state at his death. It also happens to contain one of the most magnificent staircases of all time. The entire edifice just screams Belle Époque to me and I love every bit of it.
Musee Rodin: Housed in the Chateau Biron, a building in which Auguste Rodin, one of the best sculptors since Bernini, used several rooms as his studio space, this museum is a treat. The museum’s collection is composed of lots of his works, in addition to works that he collected, including a room dedicated to sculptures by Camille Claudel. Best of all, this museum is both indoors and out with sculptures in the well-manicured gardens, including a cast of his remarkable La Porte d’Enfer and iconic Le Penseur.
Musee Carnavalet: This is the museum dedicated to the history of the city of Paris. Not going to lie, this is the one that will probably win out amongst the others. For one, it isn’t too far from Pierre Herme. However, it’s also just an awesome museum that occupies two hotels particuliers. The Musee Carnavalet just opened after a large renovation in May of 2021, so of course I’d have to check out the changes, if my poor memory can fully recall what it was before. This museum’s collection goes well beyond painting and objets d’art, though it certainly contains oodles and oodles.

The Musee Carnavalet, © Antoine Mercusot – Chatillon Architectes

Mission 6: Confit de canard

After hours of museum going, I know my appetite would be demanding for some noms. I’d walk around a little bit more, probably in a direction that would let me accomplish goal number 8 (see below). The goal for dinner will be to find a classic French bistro that’s not toooooo touristy to eat my favorite French dinner. Confit de canard, crispy potatoes, and a salad with a lemony vinaigrette that I have not yet figured out how to make. I would probably glance at the dessert menu, but forcefully say no—there are better treats to be had elsewhere.

Mission 7: Trouvez des carambars fruits et des gaufres

The timing of this particular mission is inconsequential and should be based entirely upon opportunity. Carambar fruits are manna from heaven. They are what Starburts should aim to be. There are several varieties of carambar. The original flavor is a kind of a caramel chocolate tootsie roll that is *very* chewy—could pull your tooth straight out of your head if you were not careful. The fruit versions come in four parfums: orange, citron, fraise, and framboise. Unlike starbursts which are so sweet they hurt your teeth, these aren’t as sweet and they’re much softer in texture and less waxy. They’re my absolute favorite candy of all time.

Mission 8: See the Tour Eiffel sparkle

A very not-expert shot taken by me in 2005. Still obsessed with that sparkle.

My last and final mission is a silly and sentimental one. Every night, on the hour, the Tour Eiffel sparkles for five minutes. It’s a sight that never fails to bring a smile, however small, to my face. I can’t deny that part of my love of Paris is its tendency to hit all of my favorite whimsical and romantic notes. I fell in love with Paris before I ever visited. My grandparents traveled a bunch and my grandpa would put together scrapbooks of their trips, with matchbooks, pictures, tickets, napkins, menus, all of the random things you collect while traveling. In addition they had all of these guidebooks. Whenever I visited, I would pore over them. The pictures, the history, the food, the cafes! Paris just seemed to have this aura that I wanted to revel in. It would have been hard for me to pick a favorite of their scrapbooks (one which I very much wish I had), I know I probably spent most of my time in their Paris albums and their Ireland albums. Taking French in high school and in college only pushed my love of Paris further. I finally got to meet Paris in 2004, for a 3-week trip for January term.

Little glimpse of sparkle from one of my BFF’s apartments.

I was 18, and it was my first trip outside of the United States. I was lonely (definitely the only dork on the trip more interested in France than drinking), experiencing some unexpected travel shock, and my camera had broken on our first outing. I had been approaching Notre Dame for the first time—its size shocked me and it seemed unreal. I tried to snap a pic on my point and shoot (ugh, I’m ancient) and it just wouldn’t forward the film. I nearly cried. So later that day, when I saw the Eiffel Tower sparkle (which I’m not even sure I knew it could do until that moment), I just remember that feeling of contentment and disbelief that I was actually there, in Paris, in France across the ocean from my home overwhelming me. The bright sparkling lights brought joy and excitement for that trip and that experience back to my mind. Ever since, it’s moments like those that I try and chase that deep-seated contentment with the view in front of you and the experience at hand. A sparkly tour Eiffel now has the benefit of memory accrual—it brings to mind all of the wonderful memories I have when the tour was sparkling.

Not sparkling here, but from my Airbnb in 2018.

After winding my way through the city and my memories, my belly full of duck and potatoes, I’d probably try to find a crepe au sucre just to round out the culinary delights of the day. I’d head to the Pont des Arts before needing to catch the RER back to the airport. On the Pont des Arts, I’d feel that same feeling I felt in 2004, that deep-seated feeling of rightness. I can’t believe I am here in this city that I love, how lucky am I to be here. How lucky am I to return. And then the tour will sparkle.

2021, Personal, Uncategorized

“Pay Attention to What You Pay Attention To”

December 5, 2021December 5, 2021 Charlotte

This blog has no thesis. It started as a travelogue, to keep interested parties updated with my travels during my PhD work. My travels were many, but the blogging was hard–I have a backlog of some 15+ entries to work through, but some of the motivation has faded as time has passed. At its inception, I thought this website could also serve as a professional portfolio as I went on the academic job market and (hopefully) became a professor. That ship has sailed, and thus the professional portfolio became irrelevant. Then, I decided to have bariatric surgery and this seemed a useful vehicle to keep interested folks updated easily. I have absolutely no interest, however, in making my surgery or my body the primary topic of discussion on this blog.

*I’ve spent so much of my life writing, it feels like my natural state!*

I still have the impulse to write. I no longer think that an academic setting is the path that I want to take. It doesn’t mean that I think my previous work was unimportant or has no teeth, I am just not sure that I want my work to exist and develop in and around a system that doesn’t have room to employ the scholars it turns out; can’t compensate me (and others) for my research; and for which I have to use my own precious free time and resources to accomplish. It’s a scenario in which I am doomed to be playing catch up. However, I will never say never.

Thus, the idea of branching out in my writing is also attractive. I love a good memoir and I love fiction. Am I capable of writing either? Who knows! Could I be an author of popular non-fiction? I don’t know! I haven’t tried. I’m not ignorant of the fact that all genres of writing require time and effort to get right. (Also, some academics have written some truly terrible fictional works…not all of us are Umberto Eco who can do both. I really, really don’t want to be THAT academic.) However, I don’t know that a public blog is the place to practice fiction writing and I’m not sure I would subject anyone to those attempts. (You’re welcome.)

In John Green’s latest book, The Anthropocene Reviewed, he quotes a writer friend of his, Amy Krause Rosenthal, who said, “For anyone trying to discern what to do with their life, pay attention to what you pay attention to. That’s pretty much all the info you need.”

This sentence stuck with me and I ruminate on it often still. The things that come to mind when I think of this approach are abstractions and not things for which you can be compensated nor or they ones on which you can (easily?) make a living. That’s okay for me though. I choose to interpret these words to mean what to do with your life not what to do for your work. They are not the same thing.

For now, I think this blog will take as its focus the things to which I pay attention. Crafting? Yep, probably. Random thoughts? Oh most definitely. Semi-academic explorations of mundane things? You can place your bets. Gushing and nostalgic book reviews? The odds are in your favor. Other here-to-unforeseen forays into randomness? Indubitably. Travel blogs? Yep, can’t stray too far from my origins and I can’t wait to travel once more.

Whatever this space winds up being, I hope you’ll join me for the ride.

Eurotrip 2017, Uncategorized

Arles

March 27, 2018March 25, 2018 Charlotte

Though there are no extant arches in Arles, in antiquity there were several, and now it is home to one of the region’s largest archaeological museums. I took the train on a beautiful day, and walked to the museum, blissfully unaware that there was a free bus service that led from the train station to the museum. It was a longer yet beautiful walk alone the Rhône, unfortunately, my already sun sore skin was exposed even further and I could feel it get crispier and crispier. I felt like the dead little guy there in that waffenstücken.

The Arles museum was one of the biggest of its type that I have seen in France. I could have spend much longer there. One of the most remarkable things they had in their collection was a riverboat that had been pulled from the Rhône in the past 20 years. Preserved using a process that replaced the water that had infused the wood with a preservative resin, the boat was HUGE. The picture here does not do it justice. Beyond the boat, the Arles museum had some canonical sculptures, sarcophagi, and mosaics.

After my time at the museum was done, I was not looking forward to long walk back to the train station, when I happily learned that there was a shuttle. I got off the shuttle when my google maps told me I was getting close to the Arles amphitheatre, so I could do some walking around and exploring about the part of Arles I cared about, which was right next to the train station. I found a small bistro in which to eat where the motherly proprietor clucked over my ever-reddening sunburn and brought me a small cut of aloe to rub. I ate a giant omelet with some of the most delicious frites I’ve ever had.

Arles was, in short, completely charming. It was sleepy in late March, perhaps a little too sleepy, but it like Avignon, pulled at my emotions and made me never want to leave. #Retirement goals.

Non-School Charlotte Thoughts, Non-Travel Charlotte Thoughts, Personal

New Year’s…Resolutions?

January 1, 2018January 1, 2018 Charlotte

I don’t really like the idea of New Year’s Resolutions– they always seem to be the trite “new year, new me!” kind of thing. I do, however, LOVE the idea of fresh starts and new beginnings. For instance, I have a slightly obsessive Sunday ritual where I essentially clean my house, wash my clothes, get all of the little odds and ends done around the house, so that the work week can start with everything ‘just so.’ There’s a whole lot of a benefits to this ritual for me (and some, to be fair, detractors), so I’ve taken today, a Monday, to be the “Sunday” for 2018.

Instead of resolutions, which I see as burdensome and onerous, permeated with the idea of unpleasantness, I have a few fun goals for 2018, that are instead tinged with fun. I have a few of those boring health and work minded ones too, but who wants to read about those?

Don’t re-read books. I love re-reading books. Picking up a familiar book is like a heart-to-heart chat with an old friend. They’re there to comfort you when you’re blue, cheer you when you need it, and re-reading books just fills me with warmth. In 2017, however, I feel like my tendency to re-read slowed me down; there was less of an urge to read because I already knew what was coming. I only read 40 books this year which is around 20 less than my normal output. In 2018, I challenge myself to read all new books. I have allowed myself three exceptions: one) if I am reading a series in which I have not read the whole thing, but would like to re-read an earlier volume, two) if there is something I want to re-read but have not read in the past ten years (for instance, I have a hankering to read Little House on the Prairie series again. and I have not read those since 1997), and three, see number 2.
Harry Potter and the Sacred Text I have just discovered the magic that is a good podcast. One that I am REALLY excited about is Harry Potter and the Sacred text. In every episode, they take a chapter of Harry Potter and treat it as one would a sacred text, reading and plumbing the chapter based upon a theme. It’s magical. As a serial re-reader, I love the idea of approaching a series that means so much to me from a different direction. So, starting in 2018, I have decided to oh-so slowly work my way through the podcast, doing an episode a week. If I stick with it, I’ll be doing this for years!
Fun and Skills! I want to make sure I maintain my efforts at quilting and crafting. I would like to keep up with my previous years’ records of completing two quilts in 2018. I’ve already started one, and I have an idea for number 2. I also want to learn how to hand letter. I have always been rather proud of my handwriting and while some like to draw, I’m much better at word doodling (thought I do both). So this year I’m going to continue on my quest to learn hand lettering and calligraphy. Keeping on a theme, here’s one I made for my sister that I think is sorta okay.