365 Degrees

My anachronistic life, volume 14.01.04

The past year has been an absolute mindfuck in so many ways. You can read a little about how it started here). But something that stands out for me has been how we cling to our technology in the face of a pretty insular life. We often talk about how we could not have moved here even five or seven years ago -- the internet and the growing acceptance of distributed workforces are really the only reasons we can keep our jobs and still be at Bear Creek. 

But there are a handful of especially kooky paradoxes we live with that always bring a smile to my face. As it happens, today was an amazing highlight of those things from start to finish... I want to remember them as they happened, so...:

• 8:40am - wake up to two of the hens -- Goldie and Edie -- squawking away. Pick up iPad and read for a while as I listened to...
  
  
• 10:00am - David testing the GIGANTIC UltraHD TV we bought yesterday. Recognize everything from Nightmare Before Christmas to Three Kings. Finally plod downstairs.
  
  
• 11:30am - Pull out our Christmas ham, two quarts of home-canned Thanksgiving turkey stock, and get started on dinner. Giggle again at the awesomeness of our 6-burner, two-oven, 50's-era O'Keefe & Merritt stove.
  
  
• 1:00pm - start an email to the folks who refurbished aforementioned stove about problems we're having. Refer to the email that brother-in-law (uber-mech guy) sent while he was here at Christmas regarding the various problems the stove has post-refurb. Use Evernote to attach photos and notes to the email. 
  
  
• 2:30pm - walk the garden, mind blown at the growth of broccoli, kale, and cress in face of icy nighttime temperatures. Squee a little bit after noticing a few onion shoots poking through one of the beds. Pull a few weeds while catching up on a Radiolab podcast.
  
  
• 3:30pm - Turn the compost, do a couple soil tests, and wonder again how the hell anyone did this without the internet for reference.
  
  
• 6:30pm - settle into a dinner of hyper-locavore split pea soup and cornbread. The evening's entertainment? Star Trek: Into the Darkness. Only... in 3D... in our weird little mountain living room.
  
  
• 11:00pm - sync all the Kindle-enabled devices, check the woodburning stove, and call it a night. Remember again that you're living in a weird reality where science fiction and homesteading exist in parallel. Be infinitely grateful for this anachronistic life.

Linger. Longer.

Today was the first day I really noticed how much longer the days are getting. This makes me inordinately happy.

Many Yodas, There Are

I'm fortunate to be surrounded by some pretty amazing kids.

With them, I get to exercise  "auntie-privilege" -- a very special role that means I get to play with LEGOs, read silly books in goofy accents, make cool-gross science projects, and blow zrbtts on bellies until we both fall to the floor laughing. It's awesome.

Watching these kids evolve and grow, watching their places in their respective families take root, and seeing how incredibly important it is to give them a voice and encourage their individuality has been so inspiring. 

I know motherhood still isn't for me, but jeeze, am I ever lucky to love--and be loved by--these awesome little people. They have an awful lot of lessons to teach me.

[038/365] Remembering the Playa

For four years, I've been going to Burning Man. The last three of those, I've helped coordinate Camp Pendant, a lively, warm, lowkey group of friends and relatives who've become my bona fide playa family. 

The memory of the morning this photo was taken -- walking across the dusty lakebed, watching people frolic as the icy night air was slowly, gently warming from the reappearing sun -- is one I hope never to forget.

[024/365] Black Cab Sessions

Know about this? You should.

[017/365] Geeking Out

Have you seen this graphic? It makes me very happy. And whenever I think someone is deserving (clearly, you all are), I share it with them. Usually, a debate about whether we're truly geeks or dorks ensues.

This was one of those nights when the debate disappears down a rabbit hole I couldn't have predicted. Arguments about whether sci-fi is better when it inspires suspension of disbelief, or when it's truly (frighteningly) believable. Questioning whether greatness requires obsession, whether in wine-making, mathematics, or marketing.

My brain was buzzing, and it wasn't just because of the Gavi.

[014/365] Finzw8

I have this friend, Scott. He's a pretty amazing guy. The kind of guy you go hiking with, talk about really random and personal stuff with, grab a beer with, and devour Ethiopian food with. All in the same day.

Scott also happens to be a very talented photographer, and I'm so proud of him for taking a personal risk and opening his first show this weekend during Oakland Art Murmur (aka, First Fridays).

Go check out his work.

[012/365] Evening in Three Parts

We're not used to 70° evenings in the Bay Area. They make us rather incautious.

We dig through closets for littler bits of clothing, converge on the handful of sidewalk bars and cafes, spill into the streets feeling sexier and a bit more invincible. 

These are the evenings that make every fogged-in sunset and blustery summer day worth it.

[009/365] LCD Soundsystem, Forever

Photo courtesy Chung Sung-Jun/Getty Images

I don't remember when or where I heard my first LCD Soundsystem track--it might actually have been a remix. But once I heard them, I was hooked; in many ways, James Murphy's music has been a backdrop for the past few years of my life.

From the early stuff that I discovered much later ("Losing My Edge") to more recent tracks like "All My Friends" and "I Can Change," these are songs that I've danced to, moped to, and driven really fast to.

This week, LCD play their final five shows. I'm pretty sad to see them go, but also incredibly grateful that I saw them play an amazing set at Treasure Island last year.

It's times like this that I remember why I, a wee thing of 5'4", push my way to the front row to see the bands I love. Thanks for the years of great music, LCD Soundsystem.

[007/365] Act As If

During a particularly difficult moment last year, when I was feeling lost and overwhelmed, a friend told me to "Act as if."

"As if, indeed," I responded bitterly. "You have exactly what you've always wanted. The house, the social circle, the family, the career. You don't know what it means to have to act as if."

All these months later, I recall those words and think about how very different everything is. I think that maybe he was right. If you "act as if," maybe you do get closer to the things you wish for. 

Or maybe, you just get closer to being happy with exactly what you have right now.