tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83395724525937180412024-03-13T22:35:04.323+09:00Jaimie In JapanJaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.comBlogger183125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-87459224057386408892021-03-20T03:52:00.001+09:002021-03-20T03:54:45.195+09:00A Call for More Boxes, Fewer Toys<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixR7YDTWVIESKQFQLumGoONMgjABN8Xbhz7aL_HddlWK2WLS-cTNcY3Sei79slX94UNfiArtzEdt3mvOHgvkuCdxWxoYzyNC8MVoii6cC8a9LZuDn1tn4gjBB31EkhwuRrnLSWsDgKL6Bs/s2048/IMG_0365.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixR7YDTWVIESKQFQLumGoONMgjABN8Xbhz7aL_HddlWK2WLS-cTNcY3Sei79slX94UNfiArtzEdt3mvOHgvkuCdxWxoYzyNC8MVoii6cC8a9LZuDn1tn4gjBB31EkhwuRrnLSWsDgKL6Bs/s320/IMG_0365.jpg" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The last time we were at the library, I picked up a copy of "You Are One," a board book by Sara O'Leary. Elliott loves looking at the pictures of the babies, and listening to the list of all the things he can do: walk, point, use a spoon, clap his hands. </span><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I must have read that book ten times before one line -- "You like to play with your toys. Or sometimes with the empty boxes they came in." -- suddenly struck me as resoundingly profound. Haven't all parents commented that their silly baby likes playing with the box more than what's inside? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Since having my second child, I've become more and more disillusioned with a lot of baby toys. (Honestly, I've become pretty disillusioned with the entire baby industry, but that's another story.) Babies are surrounded by new experiences every day just by being alive, but we think we need to entertain them by placing them in front of more and more things! The world itself is toy enough for a baby, which the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W2wiJbuKUYs">Baby Toys vs. Random Objects</a> video on YouTube makes pretty clear. It's hilarious to watch that baby gravitate towards real keys instead of a plush bear, but isn't that telling how much the baby toy industry is just such a waste?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>As they grow, c</span><span>hildren are learning to be human. They're learning to have a place in the family and in the world. They learn through play, lots of play. Pretend play, imaginative play, run-around-outside-and-jump-in-the-creek play. </span><span>We don't need to spend $36 a month on a fancy wooden</span><span> </span><a href="https://lovevery.com/products/the-play-kits#playkits-info" target="_blank">play kit</a>, <span>$90 on a <a href="https://lovevery.com/products/the-block-set">block kit</a>, or get any of the sensory-overloading electronic "<a href="https://www.vtechkids.com/homelearning?utm_source=Homepage&utm_campaign=hp&utm_content=HP_HLBX2_at_home_learning">learning toys</a>" for our kids. (</span><span>Electronic baby toys lead to </span><a href="https://neurosciencenews.com/toys-language-neurodevelopment-3330/#:~:text=Electronic%20toys%20for%20infants%20that,published%20online%20by%20JAMA%20Pediatrics." target="_blank">decrease in verbal skill</a><span>s, and most "Montessori" toys are too expensive, so we don't have either.) </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><span>Most parents probably have a playroom full of toys that their children never play with. And the problem isn't that the child hasn't found the "perfect toy" yet: the problem is that they have too many to begin with. Studies show that</span><span> </span><a href="https://www.todaysparent.com/family/toys/too-many-toys/" target="_blank">having too many options is bad for toddlers</a><span>, and all those things sitting around just clutters up our houses and will eventually spend eternity in a landfill or in the ocean. </span><a href="https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/parenting/a25475595/too-many-toys-child-development/" target="_blank">Fewer toys are bette</a><span>r for the child and for the environment. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I'm not anti-toy. I'm just anti-toy overload, especially for very small children.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">After playing at a friend's house the other day, my three-year old came over and said to me, "Mama, I'm ready to go home. She's got too many toys." And when we finally walked in the door, he breathed a sigh of relief, said, "I'm glad to be home," and went to play in a box.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><p><br /></p></div></div>Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-59319425087710433192021-03-08T04:02:00.001+09:002021-03-08T04:02:51.660+09:00The World<br />(written January 22, 2020)<br /><div><br /></div><div>
Recently I've been really bummed about the state of the world, and I don't know what to do about it.<br />
<br />
It started with the news that all the<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2019/feb/10/plummeting-insect-numbers-threaten-collapse-of-nature" target="_blank"> bugs</a> are disappearing. No more bugs going splat on your windshield as you drive on a summer night. <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2019/02/insect-apocalypse-really-upon-us/583018/" target="_blank">Some studies</a> say it's not catastrophic yet, but shoot, once the bugs start going, a chain-reaction gets set off and lots of other creatures start disappearing, too.<br />
<br />
Which they are.<br />
<br />
Google "current mass extinction" and you'll get a ton of articles about how the Earth's animals and sea creatures are disappearing, and it's all humanity's fault. Even in The Atlantic's "<a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2017/06/the-ends-of-the-world/529545/" target="_blank">Earth is not in the midst of a sixth mass extinction</a>", the author still points out the following sad truths:<br />
<br />
- 97% of earth's land animals are human beings, livestock, and pets. Wildlife accounts for only 3% of the total population (for example, there were 450,000 lions in the world in 1940s, and only 20,000 today)<br />
- Animals are dying because of hunting, global habitat destruction, and the fact that almost half of the earth's land is now used for farming (with pesticides, bad things, etc.)<br />
<br />
I want Isaac and Elliott to have a good life, and to enjoy nature, and to care for the earth.<br />
<br />
Teenagers are <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/science/most-american-teens-are-frightened-by-climate-change-poll-finds-and-about-1-in-4-are-taking-action/2019/09/15/1936da1c-d639-11e9-9610-fb56c5522e1c_story.html" target="_blank">scared and angry about climate change</a>. How are my little boys going to feel when they get older?<br />
<br /></div>Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-41138210642236210472019-12-11T08:21:00.000+09:002019-12-11T08:21:08.507+09:00Elliott's Birth Story<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqKUJMQekgFIAuVVoIbit9rcpBkUJVQNVdwUxuV-oSVUjedyzJ1j7N4XVUfJquPzvJSghlRzYdpkRwk8J4-mn2Sdgvttz2rjAY-T39rA8fiFdW1OzZ_vvYcUYwp7JRPR7m7o8Vqn7QXeB/s1600/IMG_4375+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqKUJMQekgFIAuVVoIbit9rcpBkUJVQNVdwUxuV-oSVUjedyzJ1j7N4XVUfJquPzvJSghlRzYdpkRwk8J4-mn2Sdgvttz2rjAY-T39rA8fiFdW1OzZ_vvYcUYwp7JRPR7m7o8Vqn7QXeB/s320/IMG_4375+%25281%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elliott at 3 days old</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kyle and I had been planning on having another baby since Isaac turned one, but when we discovered in April that we were going to have Baby #2 at the end of October, we were surprised. Who knew it would happen so soon! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since Isaac had been born exactly on his due date, I was expecting the second baby to come on time or a little earlier. In the end, he showed up a day late (his own perfect timing!) at 10:22 p.m. on October 28, 2019. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The second time around was nothing like the first, when I experienced two nights of unproductive contractions followed by 12 hours of the real thing. This time there was hardly any indication that a baby was coming at all until he got here! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I went to the doctor at 1:00 p.m. because my water was (very very slowly) breaking. She confirmed it, and sent me right on to the hospital, thinking I would need to be monitored from the get-go. I wasn't having any pain at all, and I was so mad because I was sure I would be sitting in a hospital room all night doing nothing. (I was expecting a repeat of what happened with Isaac.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So we got to the hospital around 3:30 p.m., did all the check-in things, and got settled into a room. I was bored because nothing much was happening, so Kyle and I went outside to walk around. However, once in the fresh afternoon air and the sunshine, things started picking up. It was about 5:00 or 5:30 p.m., and every time a contraction came, it was a little stronger than the one before. Then they got to the point where I couldn't talk through them at all.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Back in the hospital room (around 6:30 or 7:00), I put on my iTunes "Party Mix" from 2010 and we started using all our tricks from Isaac: TENS machine, birthing ball, and lots of focused breathing. The whole time I was in shock that things were progressing so quickly, but Kyle was right with me at every step, telling me it was all going the way it was supposed to. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When the midwife came a few minutes later, she gave me the OK to get into the <a href="https://labassinebirthpools.com/product/la-bassine-regular-essential-kit-liner/" target="_blank">birthing pool</a>, which was exactly what I wanted to do. Sinking into that warm water was such a relief from the intensity of the previous contractions. The overhead lights were off and Christmas lights were strung up for mood lighting, making the soulless hospital room much more cozy. The two nurses accompanying me were kind and supportive, and Kyle, who had joined me almost immediately in the pool, was a physical and emotional rock throughout the entire labor. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All in all, I think I was in the tub for about two and a half or three hours before Elliott was born (time ceases to mean much while you're in labor). It was definitely uncomfortable towards the end, but luckily the pain seemed to peak and never got any worse. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Right before it was all over, I had a flashback to Isaac's birth: five people telling me five different things about how to breathe through pushing, and the no-nonsense doctor sternly telling me to lay on my back during delivery. This time, the midwife hardly said anything but encouraging phrases, telling me I knew what to do and I could do it. As it turns out, I did. Without any intervention at all, Elliott Wilder came into the world and turned our little family into a family of four. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-24615307625628927002019-12-11T04:43:00.002+09:002019-12-11T04:44:56.089+09:00Catch Up<br />
Last time I wrote Kyle and I had moved to Michigan. I wrote two blog posts while I was up there, but they are both too damn depressing to share, so I never published them.<br />
<br />
A year later, I'm writing to say that we have moved back to North Carolina. We bought a house in Greensboro in April and are now back in the South. I've met a lot of new people and gotten reacquainted with old friends. And we had a baby in October. That's what I really wanted to write about, the baby, in this next post . . .Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-71639179566994034572018-11-30T11:02:00.002+09:002018-11-30T11:04:33.591+09:00Displaced (Of Our Own Accord)While the world outside is transitioning from Thanksgiving to Christmas, Kyle and I are finding ourselves transients, waiting for some stability to come back into our lives. We haven't had a normal day since early November (or maybe even October), and we probably won't have another one until January. I'm writing this post from my mom's house in Winston-Salem, where I'm staying with our one year old son, while Kyle is at a hotel in Charleston, WV with our two cats.<br />
<br />
Let me explain.<br />
<br />
We first got the idea to move out of North Carolina in February, when we were lamenting not having family close enough by to watch Isaac when we needed to. Over the next six months, we debated moving to Fort Wayne, IN (where Kyle's brother lives), South Bend, IN (where my sister lives), Clarkston, MI (where Kyle's parents live), and Lapeer, MI (where Kyle's stepbrother lives). But one by one, they were all shot down for various reasons. Instead, we found ourselves drawn more and more to another city where, ironically, none of our family lives: Grand Rapids, Michigan.<br />
<br />
But the more we thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. The craft breweries! The hip restaurants! The culture! Activities for children! Top medical facilities! Basically, Durham, but without the high rent, and with better schools and a lot more snow.<br />
<br />
So Grand Rapids it is.<br />
<br />
However, moving across the country is not, as you would imagine, a walk in the park. Deciding what to keep and what to throw away, which movers (if any) to use, what to do with the cats and the baby (keep them?), and a host of other questions all had to be answered.<br />
<br />
Here what has been going on recently:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>July - November: packing</li>
<li>Monday, November 12: POD delivered to our house to start loading. Four days of solid rain put us a few days behind schedule. </li>
<li>Wednesday, November 21: Almost everything loaded (95% by Kyle while I kept the baby out of the way). Also, my last day at work.</li>
<li>Thursday, November 22: To my mom's house for Thanksgiving</li>
<li>Friday, November 23: Back to our house for more packing and cleaning</li>
<li>Saturday, November 24: Packing & cleaning (thank you Jaimie & Chris for the help!)</li>
<li>Sunday, November 25: Our last night at home, sleeping on a mattress on the floor with our remaining belongings in suitcases</li>
<li>Monday, November 26: POD taken away to start its journey north. Kyle and Isaac and I go to my dad's house to say goodbye.</li>
<li>Wednesday, November 28: Back to Durham for more cleaning. I take Isaac to stay at Jaimie's house for the night. Kyle stays in Durham to wrangle the cats. </li>
<li>Thursday, November 29: Kyle starts the journey to Michigan with two cats (a journey which demands a separate post).</li>
</ul>
<div>
The plan for the next week, Lord willing, is: </div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Friday, November 30: Kyle arrives in Grand Rapids with two cats, leaving them in the new house to get settled.</li>
<li>Saturday, December 1: Kyle flies to Raleigh. I pick him up. We go stay with a friend in Apex. </li>
<li>Sunday, December 2: Kyle and I, for the last time, go to our house in Durham to meet our landlord for the final walk-through. Then we start the journey north, stopping in Knoxville, TN to stay with a friend. </li>
<li>Monday, December 3: Drive from Knoxville, TN to Indianapolis, IN to stay with another friend. </li>
<li>Tuesday, December 4: Drive from Indianapolis to our new house in Grand Rapids.</li>
<li>Saturday, December 8: Kyle's family comes to help unload the POD.</li>
<li>The rest of December: Get the house together and boxes unpacked. </li>
</ul>
<div>
Whew. I'm exhausted just thinking about all this. I'll keep you posted how things go once we arrive. In the meantime, we're just going to have to continue living out of suitcases and doing the best we can. </div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-72301413931470317312018-09-24T08:27:00.002+09:002018-09-24T08:27:29.594+09:00SleepHow many times have Kyle and I googled "why isn't my baby sleeping" or "best bedtimes for x month old" or "how long should my baby's naps be?" Any time Isaac isn't sleeping the way we wish he was (you know, like at all), we spend the next hour frantically looking up what we're doing wrong and why our baby is so bad. And everywhere we get conflicting advice about the best way to do it.<br />
<br />
So what we've been doing is following our hearts: our sweet, pliable, attachment parenting, bleeding hearts. From the time Isaac was about three months old, he slept in bed with us, cozied up either between me and Kyle or between me and the wall. I was able to nurse him whenever he needed to, cuddle up with him when he slept, and attend to his every need right on cue.<br />
<br />
But now Sweet Little Baby is over 10 months old, 20 pounds, and not the calmest sleeper in the world. He likes to thrash around in the middle of the night, kick me in the stomach, twist around, babble in his sleep, nurse constantly, and generally keep us up all night. Both for naptimes and at bedtime, Kyle or I would either rock him or nurse him (in my case, not Kyle's) to sleep, and gently transfer him to the crib, where he would either continue to sleep peacefully, or where he would immediately wake up screaming until you started the whole 30, 45, or 60 minute routine again.<br />
<br />
I love my baby, but evenings were getting very difficult.<br />
<br />
So Kyle and I finally bit the bullet. Last Sunday night, I left the house at 6:00 p.m. and let Kyle start the first night of the dreaded Sleep Training. When I came back at 9:00, the baby was asleep, but it had been an evening fraught with tears and screaming. The next night I stayed in the house, where I tried to keep it together as Isaac fought sleep for about half an hour. Kyle and I had decided in advance we weren't going to let him cry for more than ten minutes at a time, so the evening was spent in ten minute intervals. By Tuesday, though, Isaac went down with just a murmur of protest, and since then, he's in his crib all night, usually from 6:30 p.m. - 6:30 a.m. He seems to be taking it very well: he's in a great mood by morning and is his same bubbly, happy baby self during the day.<br />
<br />
Honestly, though, this transition has been really rough on me. I know Isaac is old enough to realize that a) his parents love and care for him deeply even if they don't sleep beside him at night, and b) he needs to learn to sleep on his own (otherwise he'll be rooting around for a boob when he's 10 years old). But even though he's sleeping better, it's still been hard listening to him cry for the 3-5 minutes it takes for him to settle himself down. And it feels very empty at night without a little warm baby body right beside me (no offense to Kyle). Plus not nursing all night has been a hard adjustment on my own body. I may have cried more this past week than the baby has -- tears of guilt for not sleeping with him any more, of sadness for missing him when he's asleep, and of mourning for knowing that my baby is growing up.<br />
<br />
In fact, I felt so bad the other night that when Isaac woke up crying at 12:30 a.m., I immediately rushed across the hall to bring him back to our bed. I held on to his little body and snuggled up to him, confident that he'd fall blissfully back asleep now that Mama was holding him.<br />
<br />
That is not what happened.<br />
<br />
Instead, he did exactly what he was doing two weeks ago: trying to nurse while lying on his stomach, rolling around, sitting up while still asleep, and everything else he could imagine so that Mommy and Daddy didn't get more than a few snatches of sleep the whole night long. My nostalgia for cosleeping quickly waned as I realized this baby of mine is about to enter toddlerhood, and is not the little 12-pound baby of a few months ago.<br />
<br />
Logically, putting Isaac to sleep by himself in his crib all night long is the right thing to do. He's too big for us to rock to sleep and put in his crib, and he can't keep needing us to put him back to sleep until he's a kid. Inwardly, though, it's still a hard thing for me to accept (I feel for some reason that I'm failing him). In this Grief Cycle of saying goodbye to my little cosleeping baby and hello to my independently sleeping child, I find myself not googling sleep sites any more, but getting through baby transitions.<br />
<br />
<br />Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-74457435395831837352018-04-09T06:22:00.004+09:002018-04-09T06:22:46.804+09:00That's the Worst Parenting Advice Ever!<br />
I've noticed, now that I have a kid, how flooded the world is with parenting advice. And while almost everyone agrees on the majority of the big issues (use a car seat, see a pediatrician, don't beat your baby), there are always at least two -- sometimes three or four -- opposing opinions on everything else. Some of the things I've seen just in the 5 months since Isaac was born are:<br />
<br />
- natural vs. medicated birth<br />
- breast-feeding vs. formula<br />
- cloth diapers vs. disposable ones<br />
- working vs. staying home<br />
- nanny vs. daycare<br />
- co-sleeping vs. crib<br />
- schedule vs. no schedule<br />
- feeding solids early (4 months) vs. late (6 months), along with baby-led weaning or purees<br />
- giving baby vitamins or not<br />
- vaccinating or not<br />
- sleep training or not<br />
<br />
I mean, good grief. And the thing is is that there is so much judgement and guilt tied to whatever decision you make. The people in Camp A believe the people in Camp B are ruining their children's lives, and vice versa. Experts on both sides of all the issues tell you that their way is right and the other guy's way is wrong.<br />
<br />
But at the end of the day, it takes a lot to completely ruin your child's life. There are billions of people all over the world being raised in different ways, and they're all doing more or less OK.<br />
<br />
Kyle and I aren't stressing out too much about raising this boy. We're following my mom's advice of, "You'll know what to do when you have him." And she was right.Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-62555301194624855812018-02-08T05:26:00.001+09:002018-02-08T05:26:24.254+09:00Three Month Check-UpI'm sitting here at the kitchen table, eating peanut butter toast, while Isaac is sleeping wrapped up like a burrito beside me. Today is his 12-week birthday, the day he officially turns three months old and the day my maternity leave officially ends. It's been a wild ride here in the "fourth trimester", with plenty of ups and downs as our family gets used to this new addition. We are forever grateful to our friends and family who have helped us with housework, meals, naptime, and emotional support over the past few months.<br />
<br />
Things are infinitely easier now than they were the first week. Sleeping patterns have emerged. Sometimes we even get to sleep for four hours in a row! (Rare, but it happens!) I feel confident taking the baby out in public and whipping out a nursing cover if he gets hungry. I've also become a pro at tying my <a href="https://boba.com/pages/boba-wrap-tying-101" target="_blank">Boba wrap</a> in less than 30 seconds (which is important, since Isaac takes such good naps in it). Kyle and I are both getting used to our new role as parents, and we have both fallen madly, deeply, crazily, in love with our son. <br />
<br />
So what's next?<br />
<br />
You may have read my post last year about women who <a href="https://jaimieinjapan.blogspot.com/2017/09/doing-it-all.html" target="_blank">Do It All</a> (and do it well!). I was feeling pretty indecisive about what to do regarding work. Some days I was 100% committed to staying home with the baby; other days I knew I'd have to be in the office every day. Even the first two months after the baby was born I changed my mind daily. I finally decided to tell my boss that I wouldn't be able to go back full-time: I don't want to pay for daycare for 40+ hours a week, but more than that, I don't want to be away from him for that long!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDl4BrMLosnX4xvuTvJS9-smbrArBdq6BP2oUyLWHZrFoD0HiKHiGqloR2NhhjCIiQxnpS-OJeXK7F36Uv8A7QPYxmdjF2rPRuUyxgEr214dnGo1KjNzMG8RwfLmU5UEa_sdBgE2W6jumA/s1600/IMG_8813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDl4BrMLosnX4xvuTvJS9-smbrArBdq6BP2oUyLWHZrFoD0HiKHiGqloR2NhhjCIiQxnpS-OJeXK7F36Uv8A7QPYxmdjF2rPRuUyxgEr214dnGo1KjNzMG8RwfLmU5UEa_sdBgE2W6jumA/s200/IMG_8813.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
There is a possibility of me being able to work part-time at my current job. My boss is finagling out a way for me to return just for 16 hours a week: 11 hours in the office and 5 hours at home. That schedule is still not set in stone, but if it does work out, that will be good news for us! I'll only be away from the baby for 4-5 hours a day a few days a week, make a little bit of money, and be able to think about things besides housework and childcare. (Although I have been super productive over maternity leave: I knitted a scarf for Kyle and a bonnet for Isaac, baked bread, and have figured out meal planning. Which of course has to be contrasted with the days when Isaac won't sleep anywhere but in my arms and I can't do a thing.)<br />
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There's still one more big step Kyle and I have to take: buying a house. Our lease at our current abode is up in April, so we've got to figure out where we're going to live after that. Soooo...we'll let you know in three more months!Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-553187271084158342018-01-01T08:58:00.004+09:002018-01-01T08:58:46.639+09:002017: The Year in Review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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2017 has certainly been a year for change! A lot got packed into this one, namely getting married and having a kid. I suppose some other events happened as well, but those are the two main attractions. Here's a quick, bare-bones summary:<br />
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<b>January: </b>Kyle and I rang in the new year in Michigan with a group of his friends from college, then spent January 1st driving back to Durham. We also definitively decided to start a family, at the same time as doing some wedding planning.<br />
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<b>February</b>: So that was easy. We started having our suspicions that things were easier than we had expected: it wasn't going to take six months after all, like we had planned.<br />
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<b>March: </b>The doctor confirmed what we already knew to be true. It was official: we were going to have a baby!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdb4i0to08e5P2zfK3FD1HYbIxOpFrcH85A5-IpShQ5YDmSOaMXWhXjHd-kaDK7IqXLuQQJ5YIw27kxV2pd0ehOb3iF0HAhEuThTY5LqKkfiYX2i9BTFemMccMyXkSlsveLPLsADDvjvbl/s1600/IMG_7633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdb4i0to08e5P2zfK3FD1HYbIxOpFrcH85A5-IpShQ5YDmSOaMXWhXjHd-kaDK7IqXLuQQJ5YIw27kxV2pd0ehOb3iF0HAhEuThTY5LqKkfiYX2i9BTFemMccMyXkSlsveLPLsADDvjvbl/s200/IMG_7633.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise on our wedding day</td></tr>
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<b>April: </b>Kyle and I were married on April 9 at Spruce Pine Lodge in Bahama, NC.<br />
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<b>May: </b>My mom and I met for <a href="https://ohenryhotel.com/o-henry-tea/" target="_blank">tea at the O. Henry Hotel</a> in Greensboro to celebrate Mothers Day, a first for me!<br />
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<b>June:</b> Kyle and I went to <a href="http://miafrancescaraleigh.com/" target="_blank">Mia Francesca</a>'s in Raleigh for Father's Day, where he got a free lunch for being a dad!<br />
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<b>July:</b> We took a week-long trip to Indiana over the Fourth of July to visit my sister in South Bend, his brother in Ft. Wayne, and my friend Leslie in Zionsville. We also started our go-out-of-town-every-weekend-for-four-weekends trips: the beach, my mom's house, Boone, and Washington, DC. We also started our 10-week <a href="http://www.bradleybirth.com/" target="_blank">Bradley </a>husband-coached childbirth class.<br />
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<b>August:</b> I turned 35 on August 2nd. Also, see above.<br />
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<b>September:</b> Trying to accomplish as much as possible before being stuck inside with a baby forever, we attended a two-day Lamaze class, <a href="http://centerfest.durhamarts.org/" target="_blank">CenterFest </a>Arts Festival in Durham, and the <a href="http://www.cityofws.org/Departments/Recreation-Parks/Historic-Bethabara/HBP-Events-Listing/Apple-Fest" target="_blank">Apple Festival</a> in Winston-Salem.<br />
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<b>October:</b> Our last month before our lives were changed forever! Kyle and I rented a cabin in the mountains with some friends and spent a beautiful weekend hiking around Boone. I tried to see all of my friends for dinner or coffee, and I threw a surprise get-together ("party" would be too big of a word) for Kyle's 31st birthday on the 21st. We did not, however, attend the state fair, which kind of bummed me out, but I also didn't feel like walking around at 8 1/2 months pregnant either. <br />
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<b>November:</b> The rest of the world may have continued to exist, but for us, nothing else happened except for Isaac Henry's birthday on November 15.<br />
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<b>December: </b>A very busy month filled with visits from family and friends, all while trying to figure out this parenting thing. Kyle and I spent a quiet Christmas Eve together, and a relaxing Christmas Day with friends. We didn't do a thing for New Year's Eve, but hey, there's always next year.<br />
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<br />Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-86658717598417859122017-12-22T09:10:00.000+09:002017-12-22T09:17:01.319+09:00Isaac's Birth StoryOne of the perks of my awesome company is that they give 12 weeks of paid maternity leave to their employees. The only downside is that maternity leave starts the day the baby is born.<br />
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And because babies never come when you think they will, I didn't know how to schedule it. I knew I didn't want to work right up to the time I went into labor, but I didn't want to quit working so early that I'd run out of vacation days before the birth itself. I took a leap of faith and scheduled my last day for November 9, six days before my due date of November 15.<br />
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I'd heard lots of horror stories about women going past the due date and having to get induced (apparently labor pains during induction are worse than ones that come naturally), and I didn't want to have to go through that. I was prepared for a long pregnancy, though, since most first-time moms are at least a week late.<br />
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I had lots of plans for how to spend my time off work: I'd bake bread, clean the house, organize the office, prepare the nursery, walk several miles a day, and meditate my way into the calm, clear mindset I'd need for labor. But you know what they say about the best laid plans...<br />
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I woke up Friday the 10th feeling restless but unambitious. I spent most of the day just lying around. The next day, I felt a little more energetic and made bread and granola. I wasn't feeling either super "nest-y" like some people do, or super lethargic either; I was just ready for something to happen.<br />
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On Sunday, Kyle and I went to have our first "family portrait" taken. That evening (technically Monday morning), I started feeling slight contractions between 1:00-4:00 a.m. but went back to sleep after they faded. I'd heard enough about Braxton-Hicks contractions, so I wasn't too concerned.<br />
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I was tired when I woke up on Monday morning, my first day of vacation while waiting for the baby to come. I had many grandiose plans for how to spend my vacation while Kyle was at work, but the only productive thing I did all day was take a walk around the neighborhood. As the day went on, I felt cramps that would come and go, so I asked my doula what I should do. She recommended taking a hot bath and relaxing as much as possible to help me get some rest.<br />
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I took her advice, but the cramps kept coming every 5-10 minutes for 30 seconds, albeit mildly. Later that night, while Kyle and I were watching Twin Peaks, they started coming every 4-6 minutes, but again, nothing big. They kept up until we went to bed, then stopped.<br />
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I was awakened after midnight (the morning of Tuesday, November 14) by more contractions, and stayed awake from 1:00 - 6:00 a.m. on the living room floor, waiting for them to get worse. They would come and go, some lasting over a minute, but they didn't seem to be progressing any. All they were doing was keeping me from sleeping.<br />
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When it became a decent hour, I texted my doula again to ask her what she recommended. She suggested that I might be having prodromal labor (unproductive labor) and that I should try to take a bath, relax, and sleep better that night. She also recommended a visit to the chiropractor to realign my pelvis, and a trip to the herbalist for some calming tea.<br />
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So Kyle took off work on Tuesday and set me up an appointment with a chiropractor that our doula knew. We went for walk around Ellerbe Creek before the appointment, going slow since I couldn't move very quickly. At the chiropractor's, I got a very gentle adjustment that may or may not have had any effect.<br />
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That evening, my friend Jaimie came over and we sat around with the lights off and candles lit, talking about birth. I took a bath after she left, drank some calming tea, and wished for sleep to come.<br />
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At 11:00 p.m., after about an hour of sleep, I woke up with more contractions. I snuck out of bed and went into the kitchen, where I proceeded to sob uncontrollably for 30 minutes. I was so tired, and terrified of suffering through a third long night of not being able to sleep, with no idea how many more such nights were to come. And all this, seemingly, for NOTHING, because the contractions weren't progressing. I was miserable.<br />
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So I woke up Kyle, and we got ready to spend the night getting through the contractions together. We timed them, but they didn't seem to be increasing in frequency. Some were getting stronger, though, and we started using the tools we learned about in our birthing class: an exercise ball, deep breathing, a TENS machine, and massage. The contractions were coming every 5-6 minutes and lasting for about a minute. Kyle and I kept waiting for the "3-1-2" we had been told about (contractions coming every 3 minutes, lasting for a minute, for 2 hours), but it wasn't happening.<br />
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Exhausted, frustrated, and not knowing what else to do, we called the hospital. Kyle answered the nurse's questions while I threw up in the bathroom. Although I had always wanted a natural birth, at this point, I was hoping for an epidural just so I could go to sleep. The hospital agreed to have us come in to be checked. It was about 3:30 a.m.<br />
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We took a shower, got our suitcase together, and went out the door. Kyle jokingly added, "You know, the next time we come in our house it's going to be with a baby." Of course, neither of us actually believed that; we were both thinking that the hospital would send us home until we were further along in labor.<br />
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However, upon arrival at Labor & Delivery via the ER, I was told that I was at 8 cm and would not be sent home. "This baby is coming today," the nurse told me cheerfully. She asked if I wanted an epidural, telling me that since I was so far along already, it was either now or never.<br />
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"Well," I thought, "since I made it this far, I guess I can make it to the end."<br />
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I won't saddle you with the particulars, but I will say I am very grateful for the techniques that we learned in our husband-coached natural childbirth class. Kyle was amazing and provided me all the physical and emotional support I needed, making the doula we had hired almost superfluous.<br />
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Six hours and fifteen minutes after arriving at the hospital, at 10:45 a.m. on his due date of November 15, 2017, Isaac Henry was born into the world. He was red and screaming and absolutely beautiful.Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-9210001090558398442017-11-07T23:33:00.001+09:002017-11-07T23:35:37.864+09:00Preparing for the Apocalypse <br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I'm not sure where this thought came from, but I've got it in my mind that once the baby comes, I'm never leaving the house ever again (or at least not until February). So Kyle and I have been preparing our place like it's a bunker in the 1960s and we're waiting for atomic war to happen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We've got a nursery chock full of </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">neatly buttoned cloth diapers (thanks, Jaimie L., for helping stuff them!)</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> and baby clothes organized by type and by month (let's see how long that lasts). In the kitchen, the pantry and the freezer are full of food enough to last until Doomsday. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Call it nesting, call it OCD, but I've been cooking and baking in the past month like a crazy woman. Here are some of my recent creations: </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOduOsHcBZRhyphenhyphen3voTj6lMfYUOi2_vMkczKwEMoguqh63l1Rdak4jdszJzQMK2dTjbAE704_TucS7CEOlXau2P2Z-QV3xREYR7Om5Z_DtiiF_Oq4WoBqrtAqi-bD3vR8kZ9Nx9syCAy12lh/s1600/IMG_8083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOduOsHcBZRhyphenhyphen3voTj6lMfYUOi2_vMkczKwEMoguqh63l1Rdak4jdszJzQMK2dTjbAE704_TucS7CEOlXau2P2Z-QV3xREYR7Om5Z_DtiiF_Oq4WoBqrtAqi-bD3vR8kZ9Nx9syCAy12lh/s320/IMG_8083.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Chicken Pot Pie with Biscuits</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5um4GYBwz1PQqVZkyBJ_KSOPl1KNaohvHWCzopwNbBppVbfu6-97Axrz1vglP2VMeWyoNun2auuY5A8tRvj4C1y2b3AfhOY__9g9VdwBPQppg57vx1hcrR92U1pcHouuoN6axyjvEzJS9/s1600/IMG_8104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5um4GYBwz1PQqVZkyBJ_KSOPl1KNaohvHWCzopwNbBppVbfu6-97Axrz1vglP2VMeWyoNun2auuY5A8tRvj4C1y2b3AfhOY__9g9VdwBPQppg57vx1hcrR92U1pcHouuoN6axyjvEzJS9/s320/IMG_8104.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Round Bread</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAVBNnnzOulOdKCczvy_-U7RyiqOg2iaMGW28ZqGi4mqcLjD5PPXbOAutUlv4_HGBs3ICXMhJULsFhDSiPiuUBr98SLhqjaynwIF5lBWTgkEIFyn6yZxy7eoOQKHjRfyZ4gcPcUrXdfl7s/s1600/IMG_8194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAVBNnnzOulOdKCczvy_-U7RyiqOg2iaMGW28ZqGi4mqcLjD5PPXbOAutUlv4_HGBs3ICXMhJULsFhDSiPiuUBr98SLhqjaynwIF5lBWTgkEIFyn6yZxy7eoOQKHjRfyZ4gcPcUrXdfl7s/s320/IMG_8194.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">More Bread</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyABU_FVpaHD_6Q8N8ezf_dawAqjauI4TXNk3cxcqI22jk32dh-mibZL5JuJI6agTZvehQ6EwSBu2GuyWD7g9q-TrMvxjUppEr_cCXaWECZBnvwbIfiyrDH_JApoeZRM6kyMhlSbKnyyD2/s1600/IMG_8195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyABU_FVpaHD_6Q8N8ezf_dawAqjauI4TXNk3cxcqI22jk32dh-mibZL5JuJI6agTZvehQ6EwSBu2GuyWD7g9q-TrMvxjUppEr_cCXaWECZBnvwbIfiyrDH_JApoeZRM6kyMhlSbKnyyD2/s320/IMG_8195.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Apple Cake from <a href="http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/whole-grain-apple-cake-yogurt-cream" target="_blank">Cooking Light</a></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5evvO-MU-t5tUplxaBlMol_C6nkji9ZZIoXxosDJ0boX2V0yJb9iSKxQ-7l9kh2yrn2JHmeVrAnabXy7uwUXxGn7O243WenfrUQA-TErr84I8wpaCZTnLALH6O_V2w0Za6hFbU3siepPF/s1600/IMG_8197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5evvO-MU-t5tUplxaBlMol_C6nkji9ZZIoXxosDJ0boX2V0yJb9iSKxQ-7l9kh2yrn2JHmeVrAnabXy7uwUXxGn7O243WenfrUQA-TErr84I8wpaCZTnLALH6O_V2w0Za6hFbU3siepPF/s320/IMG_8197.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Lemon Meringue Pie (most time-consuming thing on the planet -- but dang tasty)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ONjIpB00eRS1Q2WT127vbunrCAKs0ECiZWrQ8lZz2VwFMoKdZIprjy3ttU3XTJSqooYnllnJJQCKsqNT_f-aC9ng7pyBiApHocrPO9oVYR3gbc-u1qOMHMjyB2VCB0Qlxzb2MN1Ia1XH/s1600/IMG_8278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ONjIpB00eRS1Q2WT127vbunrCAKs0ECiZWrQ8lZz2VwFMoKdZIprjy3ttU3XTJSqooYnllnJJQCKsqNT_f-aC9ng7pyBiApHocrPO9oVYR3gbc-u1qOMHMjyB2VCB0Qlxzb2MN1Ia1XH/s320/IMG_8278.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.hu.mtu.edu/vup/pasty/recipes.htm" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Michigan Pasties</span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_P2MVweduhLmIF-haVrXCqhW6k8HDJcRVj46NDwFttvtDHRpOgJMtp1NAgaqJes_GHVobxB6zsVM69pYCW3ndx9y9f05Y1pTF8YCEwRbmm7CJQXGQ6HUlF3-7lJeVm5gSxUae1XlY-WlP/s1600/IMG_8281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_P2MVweduhLmIF-haVrXCqhW6k8HDJcRVj46NDwFttvtDHRpOgJMtp1NAgaqJes_GHVobxB6zsVM69pYCW3ndx9y9f05Y1pTF8YCEwRbmm7CJQXGQ6HUlF3-7lJeVm5gSxUae1XlY-WlP/s320/IMG_8281.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Popcorn Balls</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqaGkrnw_15EHmkZy6hlCoy9sb6Xbx1cK7KlyyDq7bIxldQlPT9QLax0d9LG-aKLSXo1Fxxzepyu2Yc5k2JtbP6hKLCE47PH4hunHMWaSo6iQGHsKywNV7ck0U_d19Wf6YtAjNbA6Z6-hZ/s1600/IMG_8286.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqaGkrnw_15EHmkZy6hlCoy9sb6Xbx1cK7KlyyDq7bIxldQlPT9QLax0d9LG-aKLSXo1Fxxzepyu2Yc5k2JtbP6hKLCE47PH4hunHMWaSo6iQGHsKywNV7ck0U_d19Wf6YtAjNbA6Z6-hZ/s320/IMG_8286.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">More Chicken Pot Pie & Chicken Soup</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We only have a few days/weeks left until this little critter makes his appearance. The good news is, at least we won't starve while we're trapped in the house all winter. But h</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">e'd better come quick: we're running out of space!</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-65902714843376811262017-09-22T04:16:00.002+09:002017-09-22T04:16:34.397+09:00Doing It All <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIWOz-i9G6I_UeprrPofIffu9D81qno4qn04GB_NLLIfqG8sRC9GWuP_tRh4lIGcdLhyphenhyphenm3agsq6Gbi_4k_Dmq7YMN7BcEYWxoUralTF5j2QINMipTDUBu7lLDeYyu_TEWMYpyyiEGcFq8E/s1600/baby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1028" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIWOz-i9G6I_UeprrPofIffu9D81qno4qn04GB_NLLIfqG8sRC9GWuP_tRh4lIGcdLhyphenhyphenm3agsq6Gbi_4k_Dmq7YMN7BcEYWxoUralTF5j2QINMipTDUBu7lLDeYyu_TEWMYpyyiEGcFq8E/s200/baby.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://o.aolcdn.com/images/dims3/GLOB/legacy_thumbnail/1028x675/format/jpg/quality/85/http%3A%2F%2Fhss-prod.hss.aol.com%2Fhss%2Fstorage%2Fmidas%2Fc0496b9766be546bc35fc06887ed3aa7%2F200227531%2F97530937.jpg" target="_blank">Stock Ultrasound Image</a> (not mine)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Somewhere between November 1st and November 29th (the doctor says November 15th but I don't put too much stock in due dates), a little baby boy will come join the Irvan household. We are thrilled to become parents -- after all, we'd been planning this for a while! -- but also a little nervous. Having never been parents before, we're going into this thing like we're preparing for the apocalypse: reading every pregnancy book under the sun, taking a 10-week <a href="http://www.bradleybirth.com/" target="_blank">Bradley class</a> and an 8-hour <a href="http://www.lamaze.org/" target="_blank">Lamaze class</a>, and grilling our friends and family on best practices for labor and delivery. I stick to a healthy diet and exercise routine, take a prenatal vitamin faithfully, and annoy the hell out of my doctors with my never-ending list of questions. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But here's the thing: we've only got about eight more weeks before the baby comes. It's time to quit stressing about the pregnancy and birth part, and start thinking about what's going to happen </span><i style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">after</i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> the baby gets here!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Good and Bad </b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VOiEY91dcfhthQJHYWqVmdDHirz14mvvj5uhrsq_GOAMDob3gdR3wKrUcq6__sGFyJMZj_J1tGPzds2InkTZLSRVdcqcxnExsuzD6Lk1tk118DkLHRYjx0MuVGN9ghJR1XgMe6ZvAYQm/s1600/50s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="504" data-original-width="608" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VOiEY91dcfhthQJHYWqVmdDHirz14mvvj5uhrsq_GOAMDob3gdR3wKrUcq6__sGFyJMZj_J1tGPzds2InkTZLSRVdcqcxnExsuzD6Lk1tk118DkLHRYjx0MuVGN9ghJR1XgMe6ZvAYQm/s200/50s.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://retrorenovation.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/05/50s-great-wood-cabinets-with-caloric-appliances415.jpg" target="_blank">From Google</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If only we knew what to expect! Back in the '50s, you only ever heard of the beautiful and exciting side of having a baby. Moms stayed home, raised their children perfectly, and still baked a pie a week. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Note that families were also perfectly able to sustain themselves on one salary back then. With student loan payments as much as your rent or mortgage, two-income families are almost a necessity now.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nowadays, the pendulum seems to have swung the other way: you only ever hear about the terrible side of raising children: the sleepless nights, the ceaseless crying, the thankless days of drudgery. I think there are more negative child-raising experiences on the internet than positive ones -- or at least, that's what it seems like. Talking with friends about their child-raising experiences have caused some shivers to go down my back!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm sure this backlash is in retaliation to the "everything's rosy" picture that mothers have had to hold up over the years. Raising children is <i>not </i>all sweet, and there are definitely times when you wish you could return to your pre-kid existence. But is it really <i>all </i>bad? It can't be, can it? Otherwise, why would anyone keep having them? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Seasoned mothers can insert here, "Oh, Jaimie, Jaimie, Jaimie, you have no idea . . . " You're right. I don't.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Work or Stay Home? </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There's also the ever-present dialogue in the back of my mind: what happens after my allotted 12-week maternity leave is over? Do I go back to work or stay home with the baby? I know I'm lucky even to be able to consider the possibility of being a full-time mom. So many women don't have that luxury. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If I go back to work (my only option is returning full-time; there aren't any open part-time positions now), I'll: </span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">pay someone to watch the baby for nine hours a day, which will essentially cut my salary in half</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">pump at work every couple of hours and </span>maintain a stash of bottles</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">come to work sleepy those days he's up all night</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">feel guilty for leaving him in daycare </span></li>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If I stay home, I'll: </span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">feel guilty that I'm not contributing to the household income</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">potentially feel lonely and isolated and need to join a group of other moms to keep my head on straight </span></li>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Of course, those are just the negative sides to both options. I know there are positive parts to each, too. If I stay home, I get to raise my kid just the way I want to. If I go to work, I'll have a break from the "thankless days of drudgery". Luckily, I've still got five months to decide what to do . . . </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGIpmyx8XUNV5hM4BOyn9qg6HL0jW7U9UVFOsn_Px5YzVSCehOQh9WTG6RiuNpWGRInxyqzEBTdlaU5YbWP6ldpI95eJqULRigCmuxlu-ORblWcTVddtQcaWuPV2dQIehsRl0hw_8cBQ_M/s1600/15+minute+meals.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="358" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGIpmyx8XUNV5hM4BOyn9qg6HL0jW7U9UVFOsn_Px5YzVSCehOQh9WTG6RiuNpWGRInxyqzEBTdlaU5YbWP6ldpI95eJqULRigCmuxlu-ORblWcTVddtQcaWuPV2dQIehsRl0hw_8cBQ_M/s320/15+minute+meals.jpg" width="111" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://i.pinimg.com/736x/1e/d0/db/1ed0db906c6ed6ffdb3f2f5551876bcd--quick-meals-for-dinner-fast-dinner-recipes.jpg" target="_blank">From Google</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Culture</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Because of all these issues surrounding new-motherhood (work, money, chores, sleep), I've been thinking a lot about the Big Picture. About how women have been doing it all since the 1970s. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Plenty of books and articles exist about the issue of mothers working (just Google it) so I won't rehash too much. What's mostly been on my mind is the way women are told they can have everything: a lucrative and satisfying career, deep friendships, fast, healthy meals, a spotless house, perfectly behaved children, and great sex, too. (Or, as <a href="http://www.salon.com/2016/09/01/having-it-all-is-impossible-what-women-really-need-is-balance-fairness-and-respect/" target="_blank">this article</a> put it, "</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">you need to be leaning in as far as you can at work and creating a Pinterest-perfect family tableau at home, replete with foraged-pinecone centerpieces and smiling tots happily eating their homemade quinoa cakes."</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica neue, arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm sure it's not impossible and millions of women do it. It's just that I'm not sure I want to try. It seems like too much trouble to try to have everything. It seems like you just hurry all the time. I want my children to grow up feeling calm about life, not like they just have to hurry from one thing to another, as they see their frazzled mother do. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Where's the balance between the stuck-at-home 1950s mom and the stuck-in-traffic 2017 mom?! Do I go move to the country and make homemade bread every day, or stay in my trendy neighborhood and buy a jogging stroller? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This much is for certain: Kyle and I will have another human living at our house in just around 55 days. We don't have to decide the rest of our lives right now. For right now, we just need to welcome him in and give him lots of love.</span></div>
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Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-85858810290111592442017-07-25T23:39:00.002+09:002017-07-25T23:39:53.257+09:0010 Reasons Why You Shouldn't Go Beach Camping <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhniTNQ9t4H-BFW8wKE39UO7rU17QmemwsKtLqNmNIcyvDq3Sjf50rWkH2CQGA7VmN28QpYkQ_fwb0UX_sywc7WX28l8IwF2n5g-0eJca-Ml4Dq-gmtmYkqHtxwu8qrAebMNVPS2_sRSXDB/s1600/IMG_7970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhniTNQ9t4H-BFW8wKE39UO7rU17QmemwsKtLqNmNIcyvDq3Sjf50rWkH2CQGA7VmN28QpYkQ_fwb0UX_sywc7WX28l8IwF2n5g-0eJca-Ml4Dq-gmtmYkqHtxwu8qrAebMNVPS2_sRSXDB/s320/IMG_7970.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Are you thinking about going on a romantic camping trip on the beach with your significant other? Sun, sand, love, and laughter? </span><b style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Don't do it.</b><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Go get a hotel. You won't regret it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Twice (2015 & 2017), Kyle and I have gone to the campsite at <a href="https://www.nps.gov/calo/planyourvisit/camping.htm" target="_blank">Cape Lookout</a>, taking <a href="http://www.davisferry.com/" target="_blank">the ferry</a> across the water and spending the night in a tent. Twice we have had experiences that make us wish we would have gone somewhere else.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here are the issues we encountered:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">#1. <b>The trek. </b>You've got to pack everything you'll need for two days into bundles that can be easily carried by two people. The tent, backpack, and sleeping bags aren't too bad. But fill up a cooler with ice and food and suddenly the quarter mile walk over hot sand from the one side of the island where they drop you off to the other side where you camp suddenly expands by about 100,000 miles. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, you don't need a cooler. You're cool eating PB&Js and drinking 85 degree water for two days.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">#2: <b>The trucks.</b> If you don't feel like walking you can always drive your truck out on the beach. Until it gets stuck in sand and eight more trucks come to bail you out, and some of THEM get stuck. Kyle and I didn't drive. But some guy tried for an hour to get his truck out of the sand directly in front of our tent at sunset, and that sure ruined the mood. We ended up going for a walk instead.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">#3: <b>The wind.</b> A beautiful day at the beach. All you want to do is lie on the warm sand, soak up some sun, read a book . . . except you can't because the wind is so strong it blows stinging sand on you like it wants to scrape off your skin. Even the birds are having trouble flying. And you don't have anywhere to go but in the hot tent or in the sand next to the tent, which does a poor job of blocking.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">#4: <b>The waves</b>. OK, so you can't sunbathe. At least you can enjoy the water! Oh, just kidding, you can't get in the water because every wave is pummeling the shore with all the wrath Mother Nature could ever summon. <i>No one </i>is in the water. Everyone wades in up to their ankles but is afraid to get in deeper for fear of being swept away into a rip current. (Also because the ocean floor is covered in shells that will lacerate your feet.) High tide, low tide . . . the ocean keeps trying to bite you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">#5: <b>The wind at night. </b>Neverending. Never ceasing. Constant, <i>constant </i>force shaking the tent, flapping the flaps, scurrying <i>under </i>the tent to lift your feet in the air. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">#6: <b>The waves at night. </b>Neverending. Never ceasing. Constant, <i>constant </i>noise that is inescapable. I don't know what decibel level waves are at in real life, but they seem much less calming in real life than the ones you listen to in your headphones.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">#7: <b>Your gross skin.</b> After all day outside, you're sweaty, you're sticky from sea mist, and even if you jump in the ocean to rinse off, you just end up salty and sandy again. Even with showers on the island, you never feel really clean. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjxgoaT8EgX0taVXqeIyFjLNW7SRMeYRgM-Sw6rv4M4B7ML9IWwG097BDm17rV9I6NAnTf2gEtp0xU1lBebHM4lS0DDmd_hq6aK0V3WMiwRQTuLkOEFDg8r7D1oeLRJqVDtaAa5Qr57shE/s1600/IMG_7981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjxgoaT8EgX0taVXqeIyFjLNW7SRMeYRgM-Sw6rv4M4B7ML9IWwG097BDm17rV9I6NAnTf2gEtp0xU1lBebHM4lS0DDmd_hq6aK0V3WMiwRQTuLkOEFDg8r7D1oeLRJqVDtaAa5Qr57shE/s200/IMG_7981.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">#8: <b>Sand in everything.</b> Do you like your salad, apples, or water sand-free? Do you enjoy sleeping on blankets that aren't covered in sand. Then you're in the wrong place, because here, sand is ubiquitous. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">#9: </span><b style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Flies and mosquitoes.</b><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> When we camped out in 2015, I thought I'd go crazy from the buzzing around my head all night (no tent that time). This time we brought insect repellent, but not until we'd been bitten incessantly by those big green flies that hang out at the beach in the evening.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">#10: <b>No escape.</b> The ferry drops you off in the afternoon and doesn't return until 8 o'clock the next morning. There's no shade except your tent. If you forgot something (like, ya know, bathing suits), you're just SOL. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiarLAfjSGJiNofANq5Z-xFZ84B7ohcf-eJY292__X4AJK_v-sLRbnHBqmmjN9420KrZfaD9y2cJn3krQZbf5QhOBPEUygnLvxTaLWpTVzOH5sm0fju4EH_OK-pS-RpHWtovFP932ZZY1Tn/s1600/IMG_7980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiarLAfjSGJiNofANq5Z-xFZ84B7ohcf-eJY292__X4AJK_v-sLRbnHBqmmjN9420KrZfaD9y2cJn3krQZbf5QhOBPEUygnLvxTaLWpTVzOH5sm0fju4EH_OK-pS-RpHWtovFP932ZZY1Tn/s320/IMG_7980.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A few good things can happen, though. The wind died down a little during our evening stroll at high tide, which made the walk much more enjoyable. (We also found an abandoned cooler f</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">ull of empty beer bottles and dead fish.) The sunset was beautiful, and the sunrise, seen after a restless, sleepless night, was also spectacular. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">But honestly, m</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">ountain camping is so m</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">uch better than beach camping. I don't mind sleeping in a tent: I've done it dozens of times in my life, more than I can count. But camping on the beach in July is just a bad idea from start to finish. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I hope you have better experiences than we did! We will never do it again! </span>Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-47062272271620352152017-06-11T10:28:00.002+09:002017-06-11T10:28:36.160+09:00Christians and the Environment<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAQb9_gaLvJa1uLcqny3xBVgN29U3YciFYXM-0_-OAMsAZVw0Y0Vh4bYHs3MjSxte_GjeJHLdWOUzsltr0Uf-0efA6qwCX95_9tJiPsOxjbuXaXUtJSMSl-AvXSAaefqgE9Qmi4wBQgwt/s1600/100_0848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAQb9_gaLvJa1uLcqny3xBVgN29U3YciFYXM-0_-OAMsAZVw0Y0Vh4bYHs3MjSxte_GjeJHLdWOUzsltr0Uf-0efA6qwCX95_9tJiPsOxjbuXaXUtJSMSl-AvXSAaefqgE9Qmi4wBQgwt/s320/100_0848.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tennessee, 2009</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In preparation for our potential move outside of the city, I'm reading up on country living. I grew up in the country, but never had to do the decision-making myself there, so I feel I need to read up on how to can vegetables and feed chickens before we get there. We love <a href="https://www.redfin.com/neighborhood/53904/NC/Durham/Watts-Hospital-Hillandale" target="_blank">the neighborhood we're living in now</a>, but we are definitely priced out of buying here (by several hundred thousand dollars), so we're considering going somewhere farther out: Granville County, Person County, or maybe somewhere between here and Greensboro. We haven't quite decided yet. But I'll have to do some reading no matter where we go.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When I was a kid, I used to browse through my dad's copy of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Old-Fashioned-Recipe-Book-Encyclopedia/dp/0553010689" target="_blank">Carla Emery's Old Fashioned Recipe Book</a>, leafing through the pages of how to dry greens, wash clothes by hand, raise milk cows, and keep warm in the winter with just a wood stove. (Although we didn't do all of those things when I was a kid, and I may never, I guess it doesn't hurt to be prepared.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As I was reading through the book today, I came across a passage that really struck me. Carla Emery first published her book in 1971. She's about the most down-to-earth person possible: rural, self-sufficient, confident. Salt-of-the-earth. I respect a lot of what she says, and I'd like to follow in her footsteps and live off the land some day. I love what she says about the world we live in (italics hers, bold mine) and pray that everyone who is lucky enough to have a tiny of slice of nature hold the same conviction: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"YOUR LAND IS A SPIRITUAL RESPONSIBILITY</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I believe we should live morally and spiritually as if Jesus were coming in the next five minutes, but <b>economically and ecologically we should live as if He won't be here for 5,000 years more. </b>I think it's a crime against that precious heritage God promised Abraham and the rest not to cherish and try to preserve this earth -- His splendid creation. If it is going to come into destruction this should be no doing of any <i>Christian</i> hands. So please brothers and sisters <b>let us struggle to preserve in health, beauty and usefulness this planet that God has given us</b> <b>and our descendants to be our home </b>until that last day when we shall indeed be raised to be with Him. Let us be able to report our stewardship proudly" (1977 ed., p. 34). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Amen, sister. Amen. </span>Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-78520961297877077882017-04-06T22:34:00.001+09:002017-04-11T20:59:17.332+09:00Gratitude to Mrs. KI'm getting married in a few days, and it's all because of Mrs. L.K., my 11th grade Spanish teacher.<br />
<br />
If scheduling hadn't prevented me from taking French in Fall 1998, I never would have taken Spanish. <br />
<br />
If I hadn't taken Spanish class, I never would have fallen in love with the language.<br />
<br />
If I hadn't fallen in love with the language, I wouldn't have wanted to study Spanish at Milligan College.<br />
<br />
If I hadn't gone to Milligan College, I never would have reconnected with J.S., who never would have introduced me to J.F.<br />
<br />
If I hadn't met J.F., I never would have gotten married in 2005.<br />
<br />
If I hadn't gotten married, I wouldn't have gotten divorced.<br />
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If I hadn't gotten divorced, I wouldn't have moved to Japan.<br />
<br />
If I hadn't lived in Japan for the same two years Kyle did (2010-2012), I never would have joined the Japanese Meet-Up when I moved back to North Carolina.<br />
<br />
If I hadn't joined the Meet-Up, I never would have met Kyle.<br />
<br />
And if I had never met Kyle, I'd never have married him.<br />
<br />
Grateful I am for all of my life experiences that have brought me to where I am now.<br />
<br />
As Kyle told me, "There is only one road that leads to the present, and we have traveled it."Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-22842539199377871762017-03-23T02:12:00.002+09:002017-03-23T02:12:17.607+09:00Counting Down to April 9th<i>. . . It seemed natural: it seemed genial to be so well-loved and caressed by him. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Jane, you look blooming, and smiling, and pretty," said he, "truly pretty this morning. Is this my pale little elf?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"It is Jane Eyre, sir."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Soon to be Jane Rochester," he added: "in four weeks, not a day more. Do you hear that?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I did, and I could not quite comprehend it: it made me giddy. The feeling, the announcement sent through, was something stronger than was consistent with joy -- something that smote and stunned . . . </i><i>I thought only of the bliss given me to drink in so abundant a flow. Again and again he said, "Are you happy, Jane?" And again and again I answered, "Yes."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<i><i>- Charlotte Brontë, "Jane Eyre," 1847</i></i></div>
<br />
<i><br /></i>
In two and a half weeks, I'll be taking my beloved's name as well.<br />
<br />
In two and a half weeks, all the months of planning about what color tablecloths we need, where to get a cake, what song we should dance to, and all the other unimportant wedding details will all be over.<br />
<br />
And I'll think only of the bliss given me to drink in so abundant a flow!<br />
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Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-81287371621829053562016-12-20T11:21:00.004+09:002016-12-20T12:06:51.148+09:00Year of the Dog Fortune 2016<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I checked my Year of the Dog Fortune in January 2016. It says:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2CPbOIoHV8qIhnrqTclqK0UWl1jiAnYMiyi6oej6h6-806pOZkVpt3a1Vs14gU1LiS9AvUMjicVH2_SDMl-riW_c84WSLZCJjLjYhp_chKRIP93t-mO3tIKAMkuZH6lGIkYfURSCxSb8/s1600/luck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2CPbOIoHV8qIhnrqTclqK0UWl1jiAnYMiyi6oej6h6-806pOZkVpt3a1Vs14gU1LiS9AvUMjicVH2_SDMl-riW_c84WSLZCJjLjYhp_chKRIP93t-mO3tIKAMkuZH6lGIkYfURSCxSb8/s320/luck.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As the Japanese would say: </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">合っている! (Atte-iru-- it was absolutely correct!) 2016 brought good fortune in love, as my long-time crush and I got engaged, and a direction for future development: after 15 years in ESL teaching, I switched to career counseling. Here's a month-by-month breakdown of all the fun things 2016 brought.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx2WTvSOfd8DRWMg3m4L4VicyeVazu3usci5-L5jIHQaZHPondzoFYME3CA9VltoCLZKC8EogjlaSI-etx5vm9IcOfZoG9IGK81cAS9Ox84tPX1cHO8ssmTwKZwsv1hLi3zv2gMieadBsP/s1600/IMG_5327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx2WTvSOfd8DRWMg3m4L4VicyeVazu3usci5-L5jIHQaZHPondzoFYME3CA9VltoCLZKC8EogjlaSI-etx5vm9IcOfZoG9IGK81cAS9Ox84tPX1cHO8ssmTwKZwsv1hLi3zv2gMieadBsP/s200/IMG_5327.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">North Carolina Snow</td></tr>
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<b style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">January</b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> - I was in the middle of the 2015-2016 school year at </span><a href="http://www.wcpss.net/" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Wake County Public Schools</a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">, teaching ESL at two elementary schools during the day and twice a week at </span><a href="https://www.waketech.edu/" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Wake Tech</a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> at night. (As well as giving statewide ESL trainings once every few months and</span><a href="http://m.waketech.edu/programs-courses/credit/lateral-entry" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;" target="_blank"> taking online classes</a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> to get my teaching certificate.) Kyle's lease on his apartment in N. Raleigh was up, so he moved to a farmhouse in South Durham on a 6-month contract. We spent </span><a href="http://www.firstnightraleigh.com/" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;" target="_blank">New Year's </a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">with friends in downtown Raleigh, then traveled to </span><a href="http://jaimieinjapan.blogspot.com/2016/01/new-york-2016-japan-experience.html" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;" target="_blank">New York</a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> the 14th-17th. We also had a few snow days between the 22nd-23rd. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiG3M5F8BeyIBIUi0uxTtM4LJHBhe1jQJP1w_zCSrPMSEf09Q8Z5aedzmB6rpV-ScL04AL_5l1eDQ6Q2hh7zSccTSH7lLnqOeq5bYkz543_pxctuL5OsGnNbSiptxJFziT7RgpLIKWjnUH/s1600/IMG_5368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiG3M5F8BeyIBIUi0uxTtM4LJHBhe1jQJP1w_zCSrPMSEf09Q8Z5aedzmB6rpV-ScL04AL_5l1eDQ6Q2hh7zSccTSH7lLnqOeq5bYkz543_pxctuL5OsGnNbSiptxJFziT7RgpLIKWjnUH/s200/IMG_5368.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still working on that quilt</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>February</b> - Kyle went to Virginia and came back with the flu, which he soon </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">gave to me. We were both out of work for a week. Other than that, we visited my mom, toured </span><a href="http://www.kornersfolly.org/" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Korner's Folley</a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">, and ate at Pegg's Tea House. We hosted an Oscar party/Clarissa's Going Away Party on the 28th. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0La377_TyfVMvv2WA4FwKBWNE7C-NU327TzDo4SFWjdKKFdZkf9p4APCqlAW9qf1tkta7aDoDoigF0IBEnkxiXJfmn52iYdFPiFzpXBqBIBUVszZ3G8IEo4mSPjdaYFpcXNcNtKbFsqvw/s1600/IMG_5649.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0La377_TyfVMvv2WA4FwKBWNE7C-NU327TzDo4SFWjdKKFdZkf9p4APCqlAW9qf1tkta7aDoDoigF0IBEnkxiXJfmn52iYdFPiFzpXBqBIBUVszZ3G8IEo4mSPjdaYFpcXNcNtKbFsqvw/s200/IMG_5649.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michigan Beer</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>March</b> - Clarissa moved to Germany, and left Kyle and I super sad! We watched <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1856010/" target="_blank">House of Cards</a> a lot. Then Kyle had to go to Germany (but different city) so I stayed home and ate a lot of chocolate in his absence. From the 25th to April 1st, we visited Kyle's family in Michigan and my sister in Indiana. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcojQIw1UbpYH4jvo5UMdIv9s0QqaFyzmBEAzQYtOZzEsIaRrDOm1vrGf1imTj-31-Zw7Z2gnMMFrtZhY3hQtI8jovQVGsx2e5KGKEdzki9F8HSjN371VX031IVkSvIz7vwLQjiJNfBmM/s1600/IMG_5764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcojQIw1UbpYH4jvo5UMdIv9s0QqaFyzmBEAzQYtOZzEsIaRrDOm1vrGf1imTj-31-Zw7Z2gnMMFrtZhY3hQtI8jovQVGsx2e5KGKEdzki9F8HSjN371VX031IVkSvIz7vwLQjiJNfBmM/s200/IMG_5764.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Field where he proposed</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>April </b>- We signed the lease to our new house on April 15th, and a week and a day later, on April 23rd, we took a trip to <a href="http://www.nchistoricsites.org/bath/" target="_blank">Bath</a> and got engaged on the lawn! We got the keys to our house on April 30th and started moving in.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJfv9-hS8krq7L6kkzCXR1jLpkf_KGSlCExHH2IlNGrl2IFdPJgPs0vvTutpqJLOVTuaeV6q3nblIITChGGzTK9dzPkKpDpQ7b4pCG3eqbX58Jjy5PqCNXkNO4_gp9bptjImG9oZnP5yU/s1600/IMG_6021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJfv9-hS8krq7L6kkzCXR1jLpkf_KGSlCExHH2IlNGrl2IFdPJgPs0vvTutpqJLOVTuaeV6q3nblIITChGGzTK9dzPkKpDpQ7b4pCG3eqbX58Jjy5PqCNXkNO4_gp9bptjImG9oZnP5yU/s200/IMG_6021.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting to transplant</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>May</b> - On May 5th, I finished my last night teaching with Wake Tech. A few days later, Kyle started building a garden bed. The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morus_(plant)" target="_blank">mulberry tree</a> started putting out berries, so I made a mulberry cobbler and mulberry jam. Kyle went to Las Vegas for work from the 12th to the 19th. And on May 21st, we had our first official night in our new house!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmdN_SMcJis8oPePO9aRaKzNgYx8lKetw5zT4qx_6oBnVH9_wgARpOUOSRxPG9gVQrwb3xBAf2AWIBerRfJkhuu4LTE0SpKFSJd8tdCh5JgU7HA2-ohTaZjqYyD9Qy-D1POITbvcTR6iab/s1600/IMG_6160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmdN_SMcJis8oPePO9aRaKzNgYx8lKetw5zT4qx_6oBnVH9_wgARpOUOSRxPG9gVQrwb3xBAf2AWIBerRfJkhuu4LTE0SpKFSJd8tdCh5JgU7HA2-ohTaZjqYyD9Qy-D1POITbvcTR6iab/s200/IMG_6160.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain lake</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>June</b> - Got some squash and cucumbers from the garden. Made homemade laundry detergent. On June 16th, we went to Cary to listen to the symphony in the park. Then I traveled to Tennessee to spend the </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">22nd - 25th</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> at a lake in the mountains celebrating the 15-year anniversary of friendship with my Milligan girlfriends! At the end of the month, on</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> June 29th, I turned in my badge at WCPSS, left my teaching license half-done, and so ended a 15-year career as an ESL teacher.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYymeg5qaV1skyt_UM7_BbhM7BzOXbP6AEkZC7l_jT12h_wTyeiMNiPhEgWr2sjH8v5lsZO75n98mnfuXfXT6LrpOHwm0LR3LgYUF3eRBb8OUUmn7MmJiyCdADtXqpefAaj4eVNRmtg0R_/s1600/IMG_6266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYymeg5qaV1skyt_UM7_BbhM7BzOXbP6AEkZC7l_jT12h_wTyeiMNiPhEgWr2sjH8v5lsZO75n98mnfuXfXT6LrpOHwm0LR3LgYUF3eRBb8OUUmn7MmJiyCdADtXqpefAaj4eVNRmtg0R_/s200/IMG_6266.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Famers Market</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>July</b> - A busy month! When it got to be 87 degrees in the house, we finally decided to run the air conditioner. In the hopes of meeting more people in Durham, we started taking <a href="http://www.ninthstreetdance.com/" target="_blank">dance classes</a> at Ninth Street Dance. My dad and stepmom came to visit on the 9th and we visited Duke Homestead to attend the Pork, Pickles, and Peanuts festival. On July 11th, I started my new job at the <a href="https://durhamnc.gov/572/NCWorks-Career-Center" target="_blank">NC Works Career Center </a>as a career counselor. Kyle and I took a trip to the Outer Banks </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">the weekend of the 16th</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> to celebrate our one-year anniversary. On July 24th we became the parents of two adorable kittens. And we won second place playing trivia at </span><a href="http://www.fullsteam.ag/" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Fullsteam</a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">'s brewery!</span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcXYFrMxhKDe65FyPJmsDAXuAvH7raQmC48_NhdeNzI2aI2B3qzYPsTPkvJD5uCWnEtwFWXHUaP2XPPnmKqMlSz3Xtk2bSfhWQDA0el_o3fIfb9vU-fgOkXJAshzx6GgDKxQNQDY-K-5mN/s1600/IMG_6422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcXYFrMxhKDe65FyPJmsDAXuAvH7raQmC48_NhdeNzI2aI2B3qzYPsTPkvJD5uCWnEtwFWXHUaP2XPPnmKqMlSz3Xtk2bSfhWQDA0el_o3fIfb9vU-fgOkXJAshzx6GgDKxQNQDY-K-5mN/s200/IMG_6422.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birthday Present Bistro Set</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>August</b> - I turned 34 on the 2nd. Kyle threw me a surprise party at a Mexican restaurant in downtown Durham. My brother and sister came from out of state to spend the week at <a href="http://www.lakegastonguide.com/" target="_blank">Lake Gaston</a> and attend the family reunion </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">on the 6th. At the end of the month, Kyle and I traveled back to Michigan for his brother's wedding on the 27th. </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_MyXJ_cI6IAdYZ-zPGtCZkglweNVSD-V7myNIGcvlajqDHAqjj1hz2FqD71a49PexWHjVBr27GzkE-9U0rJfarQAdkxgLe6sy2OiHtgGJCu6HKQ_TSUbXh3w1hlMW_ARe71j7XOnGiEvH/s1600/IMG_6664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_MyXJ_cI6IAdYZ-zPGtCZkglweNVSD-V7myNIGcvlajqDHAqjj1hz2FqD71a49PexWHjVBr27GzkE-9U0rJfarQAdkxgLe6sy2OiHtgGJCu6HKQ_TSUbXh3w1hlMW_ARe71j7XOnGiEvH/s200/IMG_6664.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crinolines </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>September</b> - On September 10th, we went to the <a href="https://nationalfolkfestival.com/" target="_blank">National Folk Festival </a>in Greensboro. On the 24th, we went to the <a href="http://www.libertyantiquesfestival.com/" target="_blank">Liberty Antiques Festival </a>(but didn't buy anything). On September 25th, we went to <a href="http://www.elpueblo.org/eng/la-fiesta-del-pueblo-2016" target="_blank">La Fiesta del Pueblo </a>in downtown Raleigh. Lots of festivals in September. </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSx4YG8f1Ca6dIevg8WB8BMHxYcSYU6kRWZp_jFwq52NkEkt7lgD362rdf4OIJvF2AgZv30xtMulkQENxM9CZIcRwH1FT6ZtVvcnqI9lI69ee8hXty_Rwh4EuK6GNq07-945IRLOV6Ix2Y/s1600/IMG_6814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSx4YG8f1Ca6dIevg8WB8BMHxYcSYU6kRWZp_jFwq52NkEkt7lgD362rdf4OIJvF2AgZv30xtMulkQENxM9CZIcRwH1FT6ZtVvcnqI9lI69ee8hXty_Rwh4EuK6GNq07-945IRLOV6Ix2Y/s200/IMG_6814.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Jordan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>October</b> - <a href="http://www.ncdps.gov/hurricane-matthew-2016" target="_blank">Hurricane Matthew</a> came pouring in on October 8th and totally ruined our engagement portraits' schedule (along with thousands of people's lives. . . ). Kyle and I started listening to <a href="http://theblacktapespodcast.com/" target="_blank">The Black Tapes</a> podcast and couldn't quit. We went to a couple of weeks of Thursday night game night in Durham to meet more Durham folk. From the 14th-16th we went camping with friends near Mt. Mitchell and then went apple picking. Kyle turned 30 on the 21st. And finally on October 29th took our (rescheduled) engagement portraits.</span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSCO-COuwb3YYwbHxNcRPFwB2Aw6ZxUMjEFY9bL6vCJPdBLfVfGeqHcyXEJiaJ4UBvVQahyphenhyphen-FO60-3bN4jj2ptin1rijGiMquLbQdvZxRHdF88cm-iM2XpWInP3zErqf9mZ14ErjHUzPb/s1600/IMG_6985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSCO-COuwb3YYwbHxNcRPFwB2Aw6ZxUMjEFY9bL6vCJPdBLfVfGeqHcyXEJiaJ4UBvVQahyphenhyphen-FO60-3bN4jj2ptin1rijGiMquLbQdvZxRHdF88cm-iM2XpWInP3zErqf9mZ14ErjHUzPb/s200/IMG_6985.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No Longer Kittens</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>November</b> - November 6th was the <a href="https://www.carolina.renfestinfo.com/" target="_blank">Renaissance Festival</a> in Huntersville. Kyle's old car finally gave up the ghost, so we bought a new car on November 12th. We won second place playing trivia at Fullsteam's brewing (again). On Thanksgiving weekend, we visited my mom in Winston-Salem and saw some extended family.</span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0JhMtLjOaVaa48O22QDw4unrqxcXOpjxLJCUize3uWcKgOtxixIaKbGqZkrUpbgPbuywL5Nj5SLBbYpNTI1JFePYbgvSdLMIHS9e7yx77S5ZxVYT4cZL-VS7eJg65ljv-u_flGukQ_WRV/s1600/IMG_7192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0JhMtLjOaVaa48O22QDw4unrqxcXOpjxLJCUize3uWcKgOtxixIaKbGqZkrUpbgPbuywL5Nj5SLBbYpNTI1JFePYbgvSdLMIHS9e7yx77S5ZxVYT4cZL-VS7eJg65ljv-u_flGukQ_WRV/s200/IMG_7192.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dickens Coffee</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b>
<b>December</b> - I spent a weekend visiting my dad's side of the family: went to see my aunt in Littleton December 2nd and 3rd. We saw the Littleton Christmas Parade, and I bought too many books and linens! Later at my dad's house, I learned that my stepmom went to high school with <a href="http://www.roycooper.com/" target="_blank">Roy Cooper</a>. To get in the Christmas spirit, Kyle and I hosted our 4th annual Christmas Feast on December 10th. We attended a <a href="http://www.moravian.org/faith-a-congregations/the-lovefeast/" target="_blank">Christmas Lovefeast </a> (not as risqué as it sounds: it's just coffee and bread) at <a href="http://www.raleighmoravian.org/" target="_blank">Raleigh Moravian Church</a> on December 11th. And we spent Christmas and New Year's in Michigan with Kyle's family.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>Yet to come in 2017 </b>- Wedding! Honeymoon! Kids?! A dog? Oh, the surprises that await us!</span>Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-26172586363397348882016-11-19T06:18:00.000+09:002016-11-21T10:56:33.394+09:00Thoughts at the Supermarket <span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 7.5pt;">Why is
grocery shopping so stressful? As a kid, I just eat what I was told, in college
I'd eat three cheeseburgers at 2:00 a.m. and not think twice, but once I became
an "adult" I started seeing shopping as a responsibility both to my
health and to the planet. </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 7.5pt;"><br />
I was pushing a cart down the aisles at Kroger the other night, picking things
up, reading the ingredients, and putting them back on the shelf. Everything
seems to have either too many preservatives or too much sodium or too many
calories or something that makes me feel like I'm poisoning myself or the
environment. Because I scrutinize everything I put in the basket, shopping
becomes stressful. A few weeks ago Kyle and I were standing in the refrigerated
section, vacillating between a commercial chicken for $1.99/lb. or a free-range
organic chicken for more than twice that. After a difficult debate between our
conscience and our wallet, we put them both down and bought dried beans for the
week's protein. </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 7.5pt;"><br />
And take coffee creamer. I luuuuuuuv that stuff. But now when I see it in
the refrigerated section of the grocery store, I think, "Oh God, those
artificial flavors and colors are going to give me cancer and ruin my health
for good." So I have to content myself with boring old milk. </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 7.5pt;"><br />
The main culprit for this freak-out is the novel "</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sweetness-Novel-Stephan-Eirik-Clark/dp/0316278777"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Sweetness #9</span></a></span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 7.5pt;">" by Stephan
Eirik Clark, which I first heard about on </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"><a href="http://www.npr.org/2014/08/18/341351857/sweetness-9-satirizes-food-wars-and-artificial-america"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">NPR in August 2014</span></a></span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 7.5pt;"> but didn't
get from the library until October a year later. That book traces the rise of
artificial flavors in U.S. food products from the '70s to the present --
and it's depressing, even if it is fiction. </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 7.5pt;"><br />
I guess I could shop at Whole Foods or Fresh Market, but it's so expensive. </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 7.5pt;"><br />
In my head, I have long debates between the virtues of there being a million
choices of things to eat, and the virtues of only having healthy choices.
They've both got their pros and cons.</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 7.5pt;"><br />
But dang it, it's about to be Thanksgiving! It's the time of the year to eat
marshmallows on a sweet potato casserole, and gravy on everything. So I'm going
to throw all of my sensibilities to the wind and enjoy my stepdad's famous mac
and cheese, fried turkey, and pecan pie and all the other goodies of the
season. </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 7.5pt;"><br />
I can worry about the negative aspects of mass-produced food later on. </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span>
<br />
<h3 style="height: 0px;">
</h3>
Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-91273887653492586852016-11-12T21:33:00.001+09:002016-11-12T21:33:52.273+09:00Fun & GamesIn all this week's news about protests, fights, un-friending, and all the rest, I've found two fun things to do that tell me humanity is still good: <a href="http://www.trianglegamenight.com/" target="_blank">Triangle Game Night</a> and <a href="http://www.rdublues.com/" target="_blank">RDU Blues</a>.<br />
<br />
Thursday night I went to the lobby of a downtown Durham hotel without knowing a soul except Kyle, and left having met a group of diverse new friends. An Arabic-speaking doctor at UNC, a Spanish-speaking paralegal, an IT guy who was probably a bro back in college, a black IT analyst, his hip girlfriend who works in corrections, a blue-haired not-sure-what-he-does and me all sat down at a table and played <a href="http://www.anomiapress.com/our-games.html" target="_blank">Anomia</a> for an hour while Kyle and another group of folk played another game whose rules took too long to explain.<br />
<br />Friday night we went to a blues/fusion dancing event in Durham, where white people, black people, Latino people, college people, working people, and retired people all boogied down to an eclectic mix of blues music, throwing in some salsa and swing to their blues moves.<br />
<br />
At neither event did anyone say anything political, either kind or unkind. We were just there having a good time. I was a stranger at both events but felt welcomed, and I hope everyone else who attended felt as good as I did. Durham is a good place to be.Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-52873573577430457452016-10-25T05:24:00.006+09:002016-10-25T05:30:07.844+09:00Another Weekend in the Mountains <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaGzwXqEjIhzMDoZYGxW04N5kj0Ou-ArPm3CdvewmHqVChSo5ie77zgrpoRwql5qR3ONC08SMLSSTVLlPxmU2OtgRYv2pqyajRBSzWJ4jPpFokKsIgbdfOo1C8_S-BUVt_aRFTdNUaTsy5/s1600/river.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaGzwXqEjIhzMDoZYGxW04N5kj0Ou-ArPm3CdvewmHqVChSo5ie77zgrpoRwql5qR3ONC08SMLSSTVLlPxmU2OtgRYv2pqyajRBSzWJ4jPpFokKsIgbdfOo1C8_S-BUVt_aRFTdNUaTsy5/s320/river.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exploring the river</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's been a tradition, ever since my first October in Raleigh three years ago, to go group camping in the mountains one weekend each fall. Of course, <i>I </i>was raised to believe that camping meant backpacking into the wilderness carrying the lightest bag possible, but since 2013, I have changed my tune. My first group camping trip at a campsite with a picnic table and grill taught me that you can have the joy of sleeping in a tent while still having access to warm water and toilets. Plus you can make biscuits and gravy in a Dutch oven over the fire and feel like a cowboy. Since cast iron would be pretty heavy to carry on the trail, the jury is still out as to whether I'd be up for "real" backpacking again any time soon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">These camping experiences have also proven to be life-changing for me. Kyle and I had met briefly at the Japanese Meet-Up during the summer of 2013, but it wasn't until our first camping trip that October that we were able to get to know each other better. Nothing brings two people together quicker than getting lost in the woods and fearing for their lives. (We made it out okay, though.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This time, Kyle and I maintained the tradition (of camping, not getting lost) by going up to <a href="http://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/nfsnc/recreation/camping-cabins/recarea/?recid=48522&actid=31" target="_blank">Black Mountain Campground</a> near <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Burnsville,+NC+28714/@35.9171236,-82.3050553,15z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m5!3m4!1s0x885a03aebe25eab3:0xfcc39b65df17cc58!8m2!3d35.9173357!4d-82.300961" target="_blank">Burnsville</a> for a weekend trip. We were joined by our friend Kelly and one of her friends, both of whom are much more adept at "real" camping than Kyle and me: they have actual camping supplies and go camping more than once a year! Kelly also brought her two adorable dogs, who seemed right in their element running around the campsite.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our first day was spent getting settled in and exploring the area. We were able to snag a camping spot right beside the river, and after pitching our tents, we took a hike downstream. The river was singing, the sun was shining, the puppies were laughing, and all was well. Later we cooked a fancy meal of roasted beef, chicken fajitas, and baked potatoes over the fire, followed by enough s'mores to feed an army.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Day two, in retrospect, was really a lovely day, but in the moment, it was pretty brutal. Not knowing exactly what we were getting into, we decided to hike up Mt. Mitchell. Now I've hiked mountains before (<a href="http://jaimieinjapan.blogspot.com/2010/08/climbing-mt-fuji-part-one.html" target="_blank"><i>almost </i>got to the top of Mt. Fuji</a> six years ago, if that means anything), so the 5.7-mile one-way hike didn't scare me. And I was thinking, sure, it'll be a nice, relaxing walk in the woods. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ha! </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the view from Mt. Mitchell,<br />
but from the Blue Ridge Parkway</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We failed to realize that those 5.7 miles were basically <i>all </i>uphill -- and that coming down was <i>all </i>downhill. It took about four hours to reach the top of the mountain -- <a href="http://www.ncparks.gov/mount-mitchell-state-park" target="_blank">the tallest this side of the Mississippi</a>, in case you didn't know, reaching an impressive 6,684 feet high (yes, yes, yes, Mt. Fuji is over 12,000, but that's neither here nor there). Apparently, hiking this mountain is something you train for, not something you decide to do on a whim. But we made it (even the dogs!), and were greeted with an impressive view of the entire Blue Ridge Mountains at the top. (Pardon the lack of photos of the mountain: I thought it prudent to leave my phone at the campsite.) It was also really, <i>really </i>disheartening to see that after all of our struggles, the majority of the people up at the crowded top had just driven in by car. And after we had worked so hard for that view!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Coming down was actually more difficult than going up: about a quarter of a mile in, my left knee started swelling with all the jolts, and a little later on, my right joined the party (apparently I'm getting old). The rocky terrain, interlaced with roots, had been easy to use for traction going up, but it made for a hard descent. Most of us were feeling some aches and pains by the time we got back to the campground three hours later. But like I said, in retrospect, I'm really glad we did it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next day, Kyle and I left early to drive the </span><a href="http://www.blueridgeparkway.org/" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Blue Ridge Parkway</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> down to </span><a href="http://www.skytoporchard.com/" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Sky Top Orchard</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> in </span><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Flat+Rock,+NC/@35.2692865,-82.495319,13z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m5!3m4!1s0x8859c33bcf460e77:0x621a840505074ec1!8m2!3d35.271228!4d-82.441508" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Flat Rock, NC</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">. Even with our sore legs, we were happily nostalgic to be back at the place that held such good memories for us. We bought almost 40 pounds of apples! Now what we're going to do with all of those apples is still a mystery: so far I've made five jars of applesauce and an applesauce cake, but we still have another 20 pounds to eat!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am a person who enjoys a good tradition, and this yearly mountain camping trip is one I want to hold on to for a long time yet. Just maybe a little lighter on my legs. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basket of Apples</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-40893888181053868092016-10-08T04:49:00.003+09:002016-10-08T04:49:36.629+09:00All My Friends <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, would ya look at that. I saw five good friends in a week!</div>
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Kyle and I spent last Saturday afternoon in Greensboro with my friend E from UNCG. We helped her move some boxes, and in exchange, she fed us some delicious chicken and rice. Good times!</div>
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Wednesday and Thursday I found myself in Greensboro again, this time at a conference for work. And both days I was able to connect with old pals for lunch. </div>
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Friend 1, the one who left me to take a job in the mountains, was on this side of the state for a few days for school, and Kyle, the kittens, and I were able to host her. </div>
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And tonight, we're off to hockey with moved-to-Charlotte Friend, who is in town only to watch the Hurricanes play (you all know who I'm talking about). </div>
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I guess things aren't quite so dire as they seemed. Friends may be far away, but can always come close again. </div>
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Anne of Green Gables (well, Anne of Avonlea), said once, "Do you know, I'm so thankful for friendship. It beautifies life so much."</div>
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Well said, Anne. Well said. </div>
Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-21338362343681648052016-09-24T00:16:00.001+09:002016-09-24T00:16:20.452+09:00Where is Everybody?<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Remember that Twilight Zone episode, Season I, Episode 1, “</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6XSg4huAiVY" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Where is Everybody</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”? I’ve been wondering that a lot myself recently. </span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-8979fe80-5794-a890-5597-a1e44466e36c" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Back in Raleigh, I lived within walking (or at least jogging) distance from the majority of my closest friends. It was nothing to text someone, “I’m coming over” and be there in just a minutes. Even when I moved out to the edges of the city in the no-man’s land that straddles Raleigh and Durham (AKA Brier Creek), I was still able to keep in touch with everyone. But then the mass exodus began! </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Friend 1 moved to Boone, Friend 2 moved to Greensboro, Friends 3 and 4 to Germany! Friend 5 ended up in the Way Far Outskirts of Northern Raleigh/Almost Rolesville, creating a 45-minute commute every time we wanted to get together. Friend 6 and her boyfriend went to Florida, and then </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> moved to Durham, far from Friend 7, who used to be my upstairs neighbor. Friends 8 and 9 still live in Durham, but lead hectic lives that don’t allow us much time to hang out. Friend 10 got into a serious relationship and disappeared. And friend 11, my blessed roommate for over a year, took a job in Charlotte. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Durham is rife with awesome people, and Kyle and I are trying to connect with other folk in the area. We met one cool girl from Texas that we hang out with on occasion, and we’ve joined a dance class in the hopes that someone cool will come along (all very nice people, but so far, no one we’re hanging out with on a regular basis). We’ve been to two Meet-ups, and joined six more earlier this week in a determined act to be proactive. It’s not that there’s a lack of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">stuff </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">to do. We go to music festivals, art festivals, First Fridays, and plenty of cool restaurants and bars. But we're suffering from a lack of people to go there </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">with</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I know living far from loved ones is nothing new (my three BFFs from college have lived apart since 2001 but still text every day) but it</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> is</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> new to feel suddenly alone. Kyle and I love spending time just with each other, but we miss the group camaraderie we used to have, too. Is this what happens in your 30s? Everyone becomes busily entrenched in their own lives and no longer has time for cook-outs, weekend trips, or a 5:00 drink? I know Kyle and I are guilty of it, too, since most of the week we just work and come home. But I sure miss the connections we used to have. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I keep thinking about that Langston Hughes poem: </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I loved my friend</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He went away from me</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There’s nothing more to say</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The poems ends</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Soft as it began -- </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I loved my friend. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So, friends, I just wanted to let you know that I miss you all dearly. And since you all recognize yourselves in the descriptions above, please know that you’re not in numerical order by affection, but by date of parting! </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Maybe in another year I’ll be writing about my awesome new friend group and all the cool things we’re doing. Or maybe it’ll be another post about how it’s just me and Kyle and the cats. Either way, I don’t want out of sight to mean out of mind. Even if I don’t see you on a regular basis, let’s still stay in touch. I don’t want distance to mean goodbye forever. </span></div>
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Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-4725896404193832352016-07-22T22:43:00.002+09:002016-07-23T02:12:09.780+09:00One Year Anniversary <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixDZek-ZXDUuAByKetJDQXnFFUQagA4lH-d-_hwM6dxpGdZEyJoadblFAu9xcFf9apeWhCxuqJUgSZ1TKbcAxnqALU8_TtfikwZOWyCZeJprCMjcotnW-TowPjq7sOpNHTz0Q7iVlAu_Ce/s1600/IMG_6291.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixDZek-ZXDUuAByKetJDQXnFFUQagA4lH-d-_hwM6dxpGdZEyJoadblFAu9xcFf9apeWhCxuqJUgSZ1TKbcAxnqALU8_TtfikwZOWyCZeJprCMjcotnW-TowPjq7sOpNHTz0Q7iVlAu_Ce/s200/IMG_6291.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kyle and I arbitrarily designated July 13, 2015 as our Official Going-Out As Boyfriend-Girlfriend Day, and I’m happy to announce we just passed the one-year mark. (I suppose we could technically count in all those other months since 2013, but we don’t worry about accuracy.) To celebrate, we decided to take a beach trip to <a href="https://www.outerbanks.org/" target="_blank">the Outer Banks</a>--the first time we’d been there together. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The weather forecast threatened rain both Saturday and Sunday, but we decided to try our luck anyway. We left Durham under cloudy skies, hoping they would go away, but by the time we stopped for lunch at <a href="http://pizzazzpizza.net/" target="_blank">Pizazz Pizza</a> in Nags Head, it was raining steadily. I was vividly reminded of the All Girls Beach Trip my mom and sister and I had made to the Outer Banks in 2014, during which it rained without ceasing for </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">five days straight. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(That trip involved a lot of shopping trips to prevent cabin fever.) Kyle and I decided to do the same, and spent a good hour perusing the aisles at the local Wings waiting for the rain to let up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">Luckily for us, it stopped long enough to let us stroll up and down the gray and empty beach, but we were a long way from the car when the bottom dropped out again. This time, we ended up absolutely soaking wet. With dripping wet hair and clammy clothes, we decided to drive out to the guest house we would be staying in and take a hot shower. After a 30-minute drive to the northwest end of </span><a href="http://roanokeisland.net/" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank">Roanoke Island</a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">, we found the sprawling, wood-frame house at the end of a long, narrow driveway, facing the sound. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">Despite the fact that there was no hot water in our bathroom (apparently the other guests had used it all up before we arrived), we were able to warm up with hot tea, blankets, and interesting books in the sun room. And just when we thought our entire vacation was going to be spent on the couch learning about what to do in case of a hydrogen bomb explosion, the sun came out! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was only about 4:00, so we decided to spend the couple of hours we had at the </span><a href="http://elizabethangardens.org/#" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank">Elizabethan Gardens </a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">and </span><a href="http://www.jockeysridgestatepark.com/" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank">Jockey’s Ridge</a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">. I’ve been visiting these gardens since I was a child (I’m pretty sure I have a picture of Jacquie W. and I there in 1996) and they haven’t changed at all since then, except that some of the statues have lost some of their luster. But hearing the sound lap against the sand and seeing the bright flowers with their background of green still fills me with peace and joy. (Happily for me, Kyle liked it, too.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">Every time I go to Jockey’s Ridge, the state park made up of enormous sand dunes (well, maybe not as enormous as they used to be), I feel like a child. This time was no exception: The two of us ran around like idiots, raced each other up and down the sand dunes (he won, obviously), and tried to see who could do the most cartwheels and headstands. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">We left before the clouds that had started pouring in decided to do anything else, and that was our day! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The morning dawned beautifully: all traces of clouds and rain had left during the night. After easing into the day with bagels, coffee, and books, we went to explore Manteo’s waterfront. <a href="http://www.townofmanteo.com/" target="_blank">Manteo</a> is a cute little town (the farthest east in North Carolina) right on the water. An old replica of the <a href="http://www.outerbanks.com/elizabeth-ii.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth II </a>ship sits in the harbor along with the dozens of yachts and boats, and restaurants and shops line the street.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">We couldn’t find a restaurant open for lunch there, so we left the island for Nags Head. There was a cute café called </span><a href="http://waveridersobx.com/" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank">Waveriders</a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"> right on the main road that served us delicious BLTs and cucumber salad. Then it was off to the beach for the next four hours. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">If Saturday the beach was almost deserted, Sunday was packed ten times as much. Brightly colored umbrellas and tents lined the shore and the water was full of families playing. Even though the water was freezing (it took a while to get used to), it felt great in the 90 degree heat. We spent the day like everyone else at the beach: swimming, walking, reading, and getting sunburned. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">Towards the middle of the afternoon, we made our way down the Outer Banks to </span><a href="http://www.lighthousefriends.com/light.asp?ID=357" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank">Bodie Island Lighthouse</a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"> for one last hoorah. Just our luck, though, the ticket booth was down to just one admission that hour. Tired as we were, we decided not to wait, and instead began the three-hour drive back to Durham, sunburned, sandy, and satisfied. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">We’ll never have another July anniversary: if things go as planned, our wedding will be in April. This year sure was lovely, though. Next time, we’ll be celebrating in the spring, sitting under a cherry tree in Japan!</span></div>
<br />Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-80371221260757362812016-06-12T10:09:00.000+09:002016-06-12T10:09:19.710+09:00Turning into an official Durhamite <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been three weeks since moving into our new house in Durham, and we sure are becoming real Durham folk. Take today, for instance. I feel like such a damn hippie.<br />
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First, we start off our hot Saturday morning at the <a href="http://www.ncparks.gov/eno-river-state-park" target="_blank">Eno River</a> hiking a trail with our <a href="https://medschool.duke.edu/" target="_blank">Duke medical student </a>friend and her dog. When it gets too hot, we take off our shoes and socks to wade in the water, which quickly turns into getting completely soaked. (We're 1/20th of the way through our Durham summer bucket list now that we've been there!)<br />
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Back at home, I wash out our clothes and hang them on the clothesline in our backyard to dry. Then we discover we're almost out of laundry detergent, so we bike the mile and a quarter to Kroger for baking soda and bar soap, which we then pare down and mix into a big tub that's already filled with Borax and washing soda, for our own homemade laundry detergent. (<a href="http://wellnessmama.com/462/homemade-laundry-detergent/" target="_blank">This</a> isn't the recipe I used, but it's close enough. Also, I might have some issue with Borax and Fels-Naptha, but it'll do for now.)<br />
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I pick some squash and cucumbers from the garden for dinner (you know, the plants I bought at <a href="http://www.barnessupplydurham.com/" target="_blank">Barnes Supply Company</a> on 9th Street), and give them a good 20-minute watering.<br />
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I mean, honestly.<br />
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Hiking, biking, being environmentally conscious...is this really what I'm turning into?! What am I going to do next, get some backyard chickens and a dog that likes to sit with me and Kyle at <a href="http://www.fullsteam.ag/" target="_blank">Fullsteam</a>?<br />
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Yeah, probably.<br />
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<br />Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8339572452593718041.post-76473722407513412842016-05-16T09:30:00.002+09:002016-05-16T09:33:53.636+09:00My Life-Sized Laura HouseWhen I was eight years old, my siblings and I received a wooden playhouse for Christmas. The 6-or-7 foot tall, one room building had a pointed roof with black shingles, a tiny porch, and two glass windows placed on either side of the Dutch door, whose halves could be opened fully or with only one part open. For the first year or two, the place was filled with beanbags, half-read books, snacks, and talk of magical lands. But as my brother and sister grew up, they gradually lost interest in playing outside in our house, and I found myself the only one interested in it.<br />
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Instead of being lonely, the sole child at play, I found that house a fantastic escape. I had just started reading Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House books, and found our playhouse to be the perfect replica of all of Laura's houses, from her cabin in the Big Woods to her first house with Almanzo. My dog Scotch and I spent the majority of my childhood playing in and around that Laura House, as it quickly became known.<br />
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The house was situated at one end of a grassy pasture, near my dad's barn, and it made perfect sense for me to play Laura there. Wearing an old dress, apron, and a bonnet my dad got for me, I filled up old feed bags full of pine straw to make a mattress for the hard wooden bed made from discarded pallets. I put an old table made from an oak tree in one corner. On the mantle, a clock that didn't work, a few candles in metal candleholders, a tin plate, and a cup. (Somewhere, I don't know where, is a video of 11-year old me giving a tour of my fully-furnished Laura house to a lady from church. There's a video I would love to find!)<br />
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I can't count the happy times I had out there, dressed up like it was 1870 and running around with my dog. But eventually, I grew up too, and by the time I graduated from high school, my Laura house was a hold-all for curing hams, sweet feed, or hay for the farm.<br />
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So what does my playhouse have to do with my life as a 33-year old living in the city? Because for the first time since I was 13, I feel like I have found my real-life, life-sized Laura House. Not counting college dorm rooms, I've lived in nine different places since I was 18: houses, apartments, townhomes. In every one, I tried my hardest to make it feel like home, and I think, for the most part, I succeeded. But in every place, something was missing. It just didn't feel completely right to me. It was either too new, or too antiseptic, or too crowded, or just too wrong. <br />
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Until now!<br />
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My new house in Durham--the one whose keys we received on April 30 and the one we've been moving into piece by piece for the past two weeks--is exactly what I've been looking for. It's kind of old and uneven, it has electrical and plumbing problems, and the outbuildings are almost falling apart, but it has the warmth and the character I've been looking for since I started living on my own.<br />
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At this place, I've got a huge raised bed garden that Kyle worked tirelessly on (thank you!), filled with newly-planted seedlings; a back yard with a mulberry tree whose berries I've already made a cobbler from; a clothesline (a CLOTHESLINE!!!!); and a front porch for my wicker chairs. In this house, the windows are open, the pots and pans hang from the ceiling, and the china cabinet is full of stacked dishes. It's my Laura house, just bigger than one room.<br />
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And the best part? I won't have to sleep on a mattress made of pine straw! Jaimie Newsomehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11898487491526800190noreply@blogger.com3